Humor

Flashback Friday: Shooting in the Streets Edition

Like so many winter days gone by, last Friday was spent on a tractor, re-arranging piles of snowflakes, as was a good part of Saturday. That’s the excuse we’re using for the failure to post Flashback Friday: Valentine’s Edition, but just between us, there never was such a post to begin with. Stay tuned for upcoming words about winter (spoiler alert: we’re a little tired of it) but, in the meantime, here’s a little something about a time when heavily- armed men roamed the streets of Indianapolis and the sounds of shotguns meant things were looking up.

Two men (behind hydrant and partially obscured behind lamp post) discharging shotguns in downtown Indianapolis.

Two men (behind hydrant and partially obscured behind lamp post) discharging shotguns in downtown Indianapolis.

According to a story by Clare Conley in the December, 1963, issue of Field & Stream magazine, the gunmen in the photo are actually civic-minded folks, members of the Junior Chamber of Commerce, stepping in to save their town from an infestation even worse than zombies.

Shooters Solve the Pigeon Problem!

Shooters Solve the Pigeon Problem!

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Categories: Flashback Fridays, Humor, nature | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Flashback Friday: Phoning It In

Some people think the most important day of the year for the anglers of Fish in a Barrel Pond is Opening Day, in late April, as long as the ice is out.

Those people are wrong.

Seasoned members of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society know the most important day of the year is the second Saturday of February, the day they can start making reservations for the upcoming season.

It's Easy to Call Ahead!

Call by number! It’s twice as fast!

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Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Flashback Fridays, Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Flashback Friday: Food for Thought

Dining Out

Dining Out, 1950s Style

It used to be that a fire, a rock, and maybe a screwdriver, were all the implements an outdoorsy person needed to prepare dinner or a tasty snack. Some minimalists didn’t even bring a screwdriver, using old nails or even more rocks to open containers. Today’s outdoors folk, however, are a different breed with different needs. Some require ovens, pans, zesters, and appropriate stemware. Some prefer their meat refrigerated and their melons balled, and more than a few of them would never dream of sitting outdoors, in the dirt and among the bugs to consume their culinary creations.

These days at Fish in a Barrel Pond, we provide manual can openers and corkscrews and even electric mixers (good luck finding the beaters), but some showoffs well-outfitted anglers arrive with their own spiral slicers, immersion blenders, infusers and ramekins. A few have even learned to bring their own stemware, but that is not to say things were especially primitive back in the old days, as shown by this ad that appeared in the March, 1964, issue of Outdoor Life magazine:

Martini Tester

Martini Tester

Extra dry or regular, the perfect martini was sure to be the perfect complement for everyone’s favorite snack, advertised in bulk, in the pages of Field & Stream, June, 1963:

A Big Panful of Jerky

A Big Panful of Jerky

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Categories: Flashback Fridays, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

The Cremation of MMXIII

(To the delight of some and the consternation of others, this is not Part II of our tribute to Forgotten Fly Fishing Legend Little Dickie Conroy. That particular dispatch will appear shortly, just as soon as our top-notch research staff has finished making stuff up reviewing source materials.)

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A symbolic bonfire is an appropriate and sometimes exciting way to bid farewell and good riddance to the old year. It can also extend a warm welcome to the new year and serve to celebrate the gradual lengthening of days in the midst of a long winter slog. A spontaneous attempt was made to light such a fire three weeks ago, using a very large pile of brush, which was crusted with ice and covered in snow. Despite the use of various accelerants, the effort had to be abandoned and, while someone might have had a good chuckle at the time, someone else came out of the deal with nothing more to show than some ironic burn-holes in his raincoat and a hat that smelled like diesel fuel.

Symbolic, perhaps, but not what we would consider appropriate.

Several attempts since have yielded similar results but we’re sure to get a good one going sooner or later to serve as the symbolic cremation of MMXIII. In the meantime, here is a photo of a fire from a previous post, “The Cremation of MMX” (rest assured that the surprised-looking man in the foreground had no hair to begin with and was just fine):

Quill Gordon Shows How It's Done

Quill Gordon Shows How It’s Done

For the purposes of this post, the fire will be metaphorical, and the brush to be burned is a few things found laying around in the form of notes and half-started nonsense. This should lessen the chances of someone flapping and running, chased by a ribbon of flame, while everyone else hollers, “Drop the can! Continue reading

Categories: Humor, Winter | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

Forgotten Fly Fishing Legend: Little Dickie Conroy

Richard Herkimer Conroy was not born with a fly rod in his hand (his mother would not allow it) but by the time he was four he could cast a line further than men ten times his age. Few anglers know his name, let alone his story, and only scattered traces remain of his meteoric rise and ignominious decline, but “Little Dickie” Conroy’s influence is still felt today. Mocked, jeered, and once nearly burned alive by those who took offense at his unconventional style, Little Dickie’s mastery of the fly line has yet to be equaled. From elite casters to green dilettantes, many have tried, but no one has ever thrown a line like the dapper young man from Kansas who once, in front of three thousand people, landed a fly on a poker chip from fifty yards away while turning a one-handed cartwheel.

little dickie age 5

“Little Dickie” Conroy, age 5, from the collection of Richard Haas Continue reading

Categories: Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Drunks Running Around in the Dark

Everyone knows Quill Gordon wears steel-toed drinking shoes and even a helmet from time to time. That said, he is not one of the drunks in the title of this post.

Shortly past 2:00 a.m. one late-September night, I woke up to the sound of what I took to be screaming outside. Dashing to the open window I saw, beneath the waning gibbous moon, a figure staggering about and whooping it up for all he was worth. While 2:00 a.m. might be the time, my dooryard is not the place for such drunken antics and I became consumed by the desire to put an end to his nonsense immediately.

Crashing into the frame of the bedroom door while pulling on some pants delayed me for just a minute or so (I think) but from there it was clear sailing as I made my way outside to give that booze hound a piece of my somewhat foggy mind. He was tricky, though, and ran to the other side of the house so I ran back indoors to the living room, where I banged on the windows and shouted obscenities as he ran by. I thought to cut him off at the porch as he made it around for a second circuit but he headed for the draw, where he hid in a thicket of willows and barked unintelligible nonsense at me while I threw rocks. Continue reading

Categories: Humor, nature, Rural Life, Vermont | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Head in the Clouds

Last week, pictures of flowers; this week, pictures of clouds. Before anyone starts thinking Quill Gordon has jumped the tracks, don’t worry, there has been plenty of fishing (20 minutes last evening and half an hour last Sunday) but someone got a new camera and pictures are so much easier than words.

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Fish in a Barrel Pond is graced with an above average number of above average days as far as fine summer weather is concerned. Hitting the evening rise can border on the sublime, with fish taking dry flies like there’s no tomorrow beneath a sky that would be just fine if it happened to be the last one you ever saw. Continue reading

Categories: Humor, nature, Vermont | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Stubbornly Waiting for Drakes

A photo of a dirty bathroom floor sucked most of the funny from a recent post. The resulting flapdoodle and folderol was probably to be expected but it is interesting to note that the indignation expressed at the condition of said floor was nearly matched by the indignation expressed at its having been pointed out. But here’s the thing: This blog is dedicated to everyone who gives in to the urge to get away from it all, but it is especially dedicated to the brave souls who take care of them when they arrive and, as anyone who has had a job that included cleaning restrooms can tell you, from posh resorts to the most modest of camps, floor-dribblers aren’t the half of it.

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Categories: Fly Fishing, Humor, Loons | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 17 Comments

From the Editor: A Clarification

Quill Gordon’s recent post “I Hear the Fishing’s Been Pretty Good” included a photo of a less than clean bathroom floor, which he believed to have been peed upon. Several individuals (none of whom were suspected to be the pee-ers in question) have suggested that this may not have been the case. In the interest of fairness we have given their theory careful consideration and feel obligated to admit that perhaps someone did not actually pee directly on the floor.

We agree it is entirely possible that a group of men, over the course of several days, merely splashed or dribbled on the floor. Then, maybe, they stepped in those splashes and dribbles and the dirt from their shoes mixed with those dribbles to form “a little mud” which someone forgot to clean up by throwing down a towel and swishing it around with their foot. It has been further suggested that “Quill Gordon should lighten up and stop sounding like my wife.”

Accepting the theory of splashes and dribbles, we regret the implication that the floor had been directly peed upon.

~The Editor

Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Humor | Tags: , , , , , | 7 Comments

I Hear the Fishing’s Been Pretty Good

Winter’s stark grays softened beneath a gauzy green veil as spring returned to the slopes of Nonesuch Mountain. A last toast to winter drained the dregs of that bitter keg so I took up the cup of spring with a nod to the transition of season, acknowledging an important milestone along our planet’s annual journey around the sun. I lifted the vernal chalice to my lips as for a kiss, and imbibed the essence of the season with intemperate relish as spring flowed like syrup, at its own leisurely pace.

Another cup appeared, brimming with the prospect of the return of anglers to Fish in a Barrel Pond, top shelf stuff, and you know I simply couldn’t resist. But I took a wide stance and held onto my hat as I quaffed because, Dear Readers, drinking from that vessel is like drinking from a damn fire hose.

ice monday

Monday, April 22

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Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Humor, Loons, nature, Rural Life, Vermont | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

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