On 5/20/04 10:59 AM, in article , "Tim J."
wrote:


"William Claspy" wrote in message
...
In an attempt to get yer minds off bathing suits, here's a report of the
five days spent in Penns Woods with a bunch of malcontents that were THANK
GOD always fully clothed.
snipped most excellent TR

Very nice indeed, Bill. Thanks for the fine report. Once again my battle cry
is
"Next year".

I wished more of you could have been there- have yet to meet you, Tim.
Other than the Pirate's appearance, sans rod, MA was woefully
underrepresented.

The absence of others was noted, including those from North Cackalacky. In
particular a certain lowercase-letter-using barrister with whom I did not
get to fish last year, and no one (at least none that I can think of at the
moment...) from west of Chicago.

It was certainly a smaller Penns clave than in the past, but we tried to
make up for it in volume :-) It wasn't the libations, we had to talk over
the sound of the rain!

Wolfgang taunted me with mention of the famous soliloquy from Henry V, Act
IV, Scene III, which both of us struggled to remember. Here is the snippet
that I think is particularly apt to those who missed Penns:

Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

With apologies:

"For he to-day that fishes with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition..."

That, my friends, is a ROFF clave in a nutshell.

Cheers!
Bill