“Keep a picture of your first fish, first car, and first girlfriend.” – Unknown

I love a great quote/tip. No, I’m not saying this quote/tip is a great one. I’m just saying, in general, me likes a good quotable. This one? Meh. It’s alright. It’d be better if it was funnier. You know, if it threw in another “first” that was silly and completely inconsequential. Like, “Keep a picture of your first fish, first car, first girlfriend, and first toothbrush.” Then people would read it and think:

“First toothbrush? Why on earth would I want a picture of that? The others I understand, they make sense. But why a toothbrush? I suppose if I grew up to become a dentist such a picture would hold special meaning to me. Or maybe if my first toothbrush was one that had been passed down in our family for generations. But that is very unhygienic and gross. Taking a picture of it would only prove my family is crazy. Why am I even pondering this…”

[Editor's note: The previous was written before Kevin's morning cup of caffeine. The rest was written after. And yes, Kevin is the editor. This is me. Hello.]

Ahem.

The quality of this particular quote notwithstanding, it does give me blogging inspiration: Talk about my firsts! My first fish. My first car. My first girlfriend. My first…toothbrush, if I’m ever really strapped for an idea.

This sounds like it would make an excellent blog series. And yes, when I say excellent I do mean something far short of excellence. Up first, since it appeared first in the quote, I’ll talk about my first fish. Hmmm. I hope I can stay awake long enough to finish it.

MY FIRST FISH is a very boring tale. I’ll be honest. I’m a manly man who likes to do manly things, but I’ve never been fond of fishing.

I’ve said many a time (i.e. whenever I come across a fishing show on TV when I’m flipping through channels) that, “The only thing more boring than fishing is watching someone fishing.” And, I suppose the only thing more boring than that is writing about fishing.

Here’s the thing: Fishing requires a lot of patience, a certain amount of skill, and a little luck. I’m lacking in the first and last of those requirements.

To a novice (i.e. not a professional) fisherman like me, putting your hook in the water and snagging a fish is akin to putting on a blindfold and making a basketball free-throw. Is it exciting when it happens? Sure. But I recognize it for what it is: Luck. Happenstance.

There is nothing special I did to cause this fish to bite my hook. This fish did not think:

“You know…there is something special about the way this particular worm is tied to this particular hook. Whoever did this is an artist. I must meet him. But how? [thinks for a few moments] Martha (the fish’s wife is named Martha), I’m going to bite that hook. Don’t try to talk me out of it. Tell the children I love them. If I’m fortunate, this fishing god will take pity on me and allow me to return to you. But if not, hopefully he will turn me into a fish taco. I’ve always wanted to be a fish taco…”

[Editor's note: Okay, a second cup of caffeine is clearly needed.]

Ahem.

I short, I don’t enjoy partaking in activities where luck is the overwhelming factor. If I did, I’d spend my days trying to find four-leaf clovers and rabbit’s feet.

And yes, there is the little matter of me not having the patience for fishing. Most people who fish believe it is relaxing. I do not find it relaxing. I’m much too competitive to find it relaxing. I would want to catch every single fish in the water, leaving none for anyone else. I would want little children to cry and say to their fathers, “Why did that man catch all the fishies?” And I would want the fathers to respond, “Because he’s better than us, son.”

On that note, I will quickly (and finally) relay the tale of my first fish. When I was around 7 or 8 years old, my dad took me and my younger brother to a little pond. He showed us how to bait the hooks and all that fun stuff. Within the first ten minutes, I had caught a fish.

I would learn later that my dad wasn’t even sure there were fish in this pond. But I caught one. My dad did not. My brother did not. I did. I beat them. I beat them both. I won.

[insert evil laugh]

I might have a competitiveness problem.