Summer – The Yankee Privateer

As Spring rolls on and nears its completion ushering in another Summer, I think it is important to stop and smell the flowers. To enjoy the sounds of nature, the birds singing, the bugs buzzing and clicking etc. etc. To look forward to extended sunshine and warmth and to feel alive again. I add that last part because even in mild weather, the Winters in New England are soul crushingly depressing. Skiing, snow, arctic blasts, snowmen, snowball fights, hot cider by the fire, hearty meals that stick to your ribs, short days and long nights, a silent landscape. All a pail of hot garbage juice. Blech. Springtime is no barrel of laughs either frankly but at least you know Summer is coming so it doesn’t completely stink.

Let us go over some of the trappings and effluvia of Spring that I can go without and some, that I simply cannot live without.

Allergies: I believe in God and am actually very fond of God. However, I think it shows God’s hand a bit in terms of how God thinks of us to put us on an Earth that when it begins to rejuvenate and regenerate itself also attempts to kill us. This is also an issue I have with environmentalism. Why are we trying to save the Earth? The Earth hates us. It constantly tries to kill us with storms, mudslides, wild-fires, tornadoes, cold snaps, heat waves, earthquakes, sinkholes, volcanoes, sharks, bears, mountain lions, snakes, bugs, weirdo fish, venomous frogs, wild dogs, stampeding buffalo, coyotes, wolves, tigers, lions, and a whole assortment of flowers, berries and leaves that cause itching, irritation, hallucinations, loss of bowel function and eventually death. Yes, even berries hate us to the point that they want us to shit ourselves to death. So, the Earth? I mean yeah don’t litter but screw it. Anyway, allergies are the worst. Waking up feeling like you have a mild flu every day until it gets hot enough to cook the pollen before it gets a chance to waft off of the trees is not a joy that I look forward to. Allergy medicine never works. Claritin, Zyrtec, you name it; they’re all band aids on bullet wounds when it comes to navigating the deep Spring. Every year they attack my respiratory system with an energy that would make a caffeinated hummingbird blush. I would sigh to say “woe is me” but I would probably start a coughing fit that would require Last Rites.
Birds: I usually don’t have a beef with birds, and I know I mentioned them in the beginning of this post, but let’s think about waking up a little later, whaddya say, fellas? The other morning, I got up because nature decided to call at an ungodly hour. After finishing my business and getting back into bed, I realized that at the tender hour of 4 am some little feathered beast and his friends had decided now was a great time for choir practice. It is pleasant and even rather lovely in the afternoon, while sitting outside reading or having a nice moment of quiet, reflective time. However, at that hour of the morning it is a downright act of violence to be that happy. The thing is they’re probably not that happy at all. They’re probably chirping to check to see who made it through another night without being eaten alive by something. They’re gathering the flock to desperately figure out where to find some free seeds or berries (the same ones that try to kill us are totally fine for birds, so again, thanks Earth!). They’re probably all having massive panic attacks at the thought of having to fly through another day without being attacked and eviscerated by hawks, owls, wind turbines and bored country folk with a lot of time on their hands and too many scatter guns. That being understood, it still sounds like they’re frolicking and telling inside jokes to one another about incredibly sweet little stories involving church mice and bits of discarded pound cake. At 4 AM, that chirping is about a welcome a sound as crying coming from what you thought was an empty attic. Birds… just cool it. At least until 6 AM. Deal?
The Schizophrenic Weather: There is an old saying in New England: “don’t like the weather? give it an hour”. That is probably the most accurate commentary on this region that exists today. The early Spring is a mix of snow, sleet, freezing rain, plain rain and moments requiring shorts and flip flops. The end of the Spring is a mix of warm to hot days, rain, sun, usually decently windy and of course, frost and freeze warnings. Nothing says, “I’m a Yankee!” like grilling during the day and drinking beer from a cooler only to get your wood stove going that night and having a nice cup of coffee to warm up. Sometimes we don’t even get a Spring. Sometimes it seems like there is permafrost up until Memorial Day and as soon as June hits, people’s shoes start melting to the pavement and cooling centers go up all over. Last year, my town’s Memorial Day parade was a massive hit. The weather was perfect, and the smell of charcoal grills filled the air. This year, it is (at least as of now) shaping up to be more of the same. However, I distinctly remember Memorial Days where it was too cold and wet to even muse over venturing outside for anything other than maybe picking up some takeout. Even that is a stretch.
Longer Days: This is a pure joy thing. I do not know a single person who prefers the length of the days in December to the length of the days in July. I have no idea why we even go back to standard time at the end of DLST. There is something so cringingly awful about getting up in the morning in the pitch black and then getting out of work in the afternoon and driving home in the pitch black. Longer days mean more time to enjoy being outdoors. It means more time to feel like you should be productive. Light is life and darkness is death. That is pretty heavy, I know. But face it, you know I am right. I don’t even like going to the movies because when the lights go down, I start to contemplate my own mortality. I start to wonder what movies they’ll have in the afterlife. Will there be a decent library of flicks, or will it be a perpetual Starz lineup? Then, inevitably, I start to panic and I scream. Then, as the ushers are attempting to forcefully remove me from the theater, I usually go limp, and they’ve figured they’ve accidentally killed me. Normally, I wake up but sometimes I go along with it and muse again about the entertainment in the netherworld. Will there be premium cable? Can I still watch the Yankees? It is usually around then I wake up in a strait jacket in a rubber room. But no, in all seriousness, it’s just nice to have natural light later into the day. I have found that folks who like when it gets dark early are usually introverts or depressives. I wish them Godspeed but as for me; let there be light.
GRILLING!: I all-capped and exclamation pointed this one because as a dad, grilling is one of those things that is synonymous with fatherhood. Not really sure why once you have children your next burning desire is to desire to burn some steaks from time to time, but it happens. All of you single boyos out there, just wait. Even if you like to grill now, wait until you have your first kid. You’ll wake up holding tongs and a spatula and you’ll have no idea how they got in your hands. Problem with grilling, is it’s actually not as versatile as you may think. You’ll find yourself loathing the idea of another piece of grilled chicken. But then you’ll remember that grilling offers you the chance to cook over an open flame and to have a few minutes of alone time before the madness of mealtime with children begins and then you’ll don your apron in a split second. Of course, grilling isn’t without its controversies. Are you a charcoal person? Gas? Pellet? Or you could be like me; and have charcoal, gas AND a smoker on your deck. The key to mastering all these different apparatuses is simple; hours of mind-numbing YouTube research followed by kissing a picture of Aaron Franklin and subsequently explaining to your wife why not all lump charcoal is the same and sometimes you have to spend a little more. Does the food actually taste any better? Sure. Why not. The secret around my house is this; I really dislike smoked food. Why do you want your food to taste like a brush fire? However, it seems like a fun thing to waste your time on, so I smoke stuff from time to time. Again, is the food any better than if I simply seasoned it well and roasted it? Probably not but my family doesn’t need to deal with a cranky daddy, so they pretend it’s good. Love them for that.
Clothes: My wife wears rompers, sundresses and assorted pretty girl clothes during the Summer. Good for me! I wear shorts, tee shirts and flip flops. Bad for the tri-state area. There is something so much nicer about navigating a day without 90 pounds of worsted wool, cotton and Gore-Tex weighing you down. I like getting home from work and throwing on whatever flotsam is hovering around the old dresser. I like having a farmer’s tan and I like the fact that for a couple months a year I look like I don’t live in a place where the weather is bleak enough to be the backdrop of a Scottish crime novel. But… There is a troubling trend in men’s fashion these days, however. For some reason, short shorts seem to be coming back into style for guys. This is a bad look. Think 70’s era basketball player bad look. No one wants to see some dude’s pasty, hairy thighs. I come from the generation where we thought shorts should essentially look like Milhouse Van Houten’s flood pants. Shorts should at least come down to the knee. They don’t have to completely cover them, but they should come down to the top of the knees. Any shorter than that and you look like you’re a French bicycle messenger. This isn’t a Wes Anderson movie, this is life. We don’t need your avant-garde aesthetic ruining an otherwise nice day at the park. Cover them up, gents.

There is a hell of a lot to like about the Spring and there is also some stuff to dislike. I think that if we spend more time outdoors and less time whining around the computer or cell phone, we will be a much more mellow and joyful people. But I mean let’s face it; what really matters is whatever we decide these days in a sense of self-righteous indignation anyway, amiright? So maybe just hit the snooze button on the whole damn season. Not me though. I’ll be the guy with the platter of mediocre brisket and shorts down to his ankles ready to greet you in and hand you a cold one.

Well, it is that time of year again. When I hang up my teaching shoes and pick up the … summer shoes. I guess. I also take a hiatus from this blog which I admit I have been neglecting. The neglect stems from a number of reasons but the most glaring I suppose is what I can only describe as a sense of political malaise that has washed over me. I do not mean to say that I no longer care about what our elected officials do or how they lead our great nation. I just find it mind-numbing these days. The left would claim that this attitude was a product of the ineptitude and bewildering piffle released daily from the President and his staff. The right would claim that it is a product of the never-ending political witch hunt and attempted character assassinations carried out daily by a news media which solely exists as a Marxist propaganda outlet. In reality, it may very well be a mixture of both coupled with the ebbing of the lunacy tide after the general election. Whatever the main cause of the dampening of my enthusiasm to write about anything political may be, it’s immaterial. The fact is; jimmy-crack-corn and I don’t care.

So, to end another school year and another blog year, I’ve decided to talk about something I truly love yet am dreadfully unsuccessful at; fishing.

Yes, that is correct, dear reader. Yours truly is quite the avid angler. Yet, despite his numerous attempts his yield would make St. Peter weep. There have been days, nay, weeks of time where I have gone nearly everyday and have not even come close to bringing something home to eat. However, living on Long Island Sound, that might actually not be such a bad thing. I am going to discuss four different types of fish and the correct ways to catch them. Hold on to your seats, it’s mild excitement time!

Striped Bass / Striper / Shiny A**hole Fish that Doesn’t Bite for Sh*t : (Pescado douchebago) This absolutely delicious fish can be caught from mid-Spring to early Autumn in Long Island Sound. They go south in the warmer months much like half of the geriatric population of this state. They have a firm, white flesh that makes chicken taste like gutter water. It is my favorite fish. So good. I want some now. Problem… is that they had a meeting three years ago and decided to leave me out of the loop. For too long have I toiled at landing one of these delectable beasts. I have used striper rigs, fish finder rigs, I’ve done bottom fishing, jigging, surf casting, I’ve tried going for them at the mouths of rivers in brackish water, up the rivers during the right time of year, from the beach, along sea walls, from boats, in high sun, under clouds, during the incoming tide, slack tide, using bunker chunks, mackerel chunks, clams, sand worms both synthetic and real, surface lures, bottle poppers, bucktails… Kids, I have done it all. These little awful bastards mine as well be unicorns. They are my white whale. That being said, plenty of people do catch them and my best bet is to offer to buy them once caught. However, I feel that this year I may get lucky. Why? I don’t know but without hope the fisherman is just a dope with an expensive stick swearing at the water on the beach. Best Rig: prayer

Bluefish / (pesce oily-disgusto-matic) Don’t really give a damn about catching these. When they are snappers, they are fun as all get out to catch. They put up a fight and it’s not unheard of to catch 10+ snappers in a single fishing session. Tailors and Cocktails (juvenile blues) are fun as they put up more of a fight and I am told they are delicious. Big blues put up an enormous struggle and are really fun to fight once you get a good set with your hook. Problem; is that they have teeth like Jaws and will bite the ever-living shit out of you if you don’t have a decent hook extractor. Also, they taste like what low-tide smells like. Oily, dark and fishy. Blech. The people who love the taste of bluefish make me laugh. Every one of them starts their personal bluefish recipes with the following statement: “you have to soak it in lemon juice or buttermilk overnight to extract that fishy taste”. Boyos, if you have to nuke your protein to make it edible, I’ve got news for ya; It sucks. Best Rig: bottom fishing with a fish finder and wire leader, chunks of mackerel / bunker.

Summer Flounder / Fluke (pesce swimming-dinnerplatus) These little jerks like to hang out at the bottom of the Sound and go after whatever falls off of rich dude’s boats. They nail the bait quickly and take off so if you’ve baited your hook correctly, you won’t need to set the hook as the little moron does the job for you. Fluke tastes like nothing. It is basically a big, flat, ugly cod. But buying fish isn’t a cool thing to do for super studs like me, so basically what you’re going to need to do is get yourself a nice, shiny flounder rig. Get some minnows and go nuts. Unlike all other types of saltwater fish that I attempt to catch (only one basically, the shithead striper) I have actually had decent luck going for fluke. If you are on a boat, or even from the shore, your best bet is to string a leader off of the bottom of your rig and set up a good 1-2 ounce sinker and bounce it off the bottom gently every few seconds. If this method doesn’t work, then re-rig for something that is biting. Bluefish, blackfish, weakfish, sea robins and stop complaining. Best Rig: I already told you.

Trout (pescado this-is-a-waste-of-timo) Living where I do, I have the blessing of being within walking distance to saltwater fishing and if I am feeling particularly saucy, I can take a five-minute drive and do some freshwater fishing. Freshwater fishing is a different animal altogether and while patience is a virtue in all types of angling, you really need to have a basic mastery of zen in order to maintain sanity while freshwater fishing. Trout have their big months in the Spring but you can catch them all Summer if you follow these basic steps. 1. Get yourself a freshwater pole and setup a rig so you have a small weight holding your bait in place and set your bait about a foot off the bottom. 2. Get Powerbait trout eggs or dough bait. Stifle vomit from the smell, pinch your bait to your hook, let it sit in the water for a minute to harden around the hook, cast that sucker and prepare for boredom. I have found, that usually the best method of trout fishing is to give up after about a half hour, re-rig with a shiny bucktail and go for pickerel or bass which are fun to catch and I actually do pretty well on. The only problem is that they swallow the lure each time and trying to extract the hook usually takes surgery-like precision. I have not lost a chainsides yet, and I’ll be damned if I will this year. You see… I have a rule: If you kill it, you must eat it. Which sounds noble but in practice sucks because sometimes you end up killing some pretty unappetizing stuff. I would rather not chow down on a long, green tube of dinosaur-fish meat and that is why I am careful as hell not to hurt the fish when I land a pickerel. Best Rig: wait, for trout or for pickerel? I forget.

So, dear reader, I bid you adieu for the summer. I hope you catch lots and lots and lots of fish. But no more than me. Because, seriously that would anger me. I am off to search for the elusive white whale yet again. And if I don’t catch one by August, then … I’ll order one from Stop and Shop.

Be well.

J.M.