The Reason for the Season

In light of all the pseudo-Christian, Glenn Beck University,
revisionist history and other utter nonsense which has been
polluting this forum of late I would like to remind one and
all that the Winter Solstice occurs this evening at 5:38 CST.

The Winter Solstice *is* the reason for the season. I wish
all on roff a Cool Yule and a healthy, prosperous New Year !

--
Ken Fortenberry

On Tue, 21 Dec 2010 10:57:59 -0600, Ken Fortenberry
wrote:

In light of all the pseudo-Christian, Glenn Beck University,
revisionist history and other utter nonsense which has been
polluting this forum of late I would like to remind one and
all that the Winter Solstice occurs this evening at 5:38 CST.

The Winter Solstice *is* the reason for the season. I wish
all on roff a Cool Yule and a healthy, prosperous New Year !

On Tue, 21 Dec 2010 10:57:59 -0600, Ken Fortenberry
wrote:

Cool Yule

A warm yule to all Roffians (10 below here) and a Happy winter
solstice to all on this nutso list - ROFF

Fred

On Tue, 21 Dec 2010 10:28:51 -0700, flebow
wrote:

A warm yule to all Roffians (10 below here) and a Happy winter
solstice to all on this nutso list - ROFF

Fred


Thanks! It was 83F here today, so I hope you don't take offense if I
say I hope it DON'T get any warmer!

Merry Christmas to all!

On 12/21/2010 08:57 AM, Ken Fortenberry wrote:
In light of all the pseudo-Christian, Glenn Beck University,
revisionist history and other utter nonsense which has been
polluting this forum of late I would like to remind one and
all that the Winter Solstice occurs this evening at 5:38 CST.

The Winter Solstice *is* the reason for the season. I wish
all on roff a Cool Yule and a healthy, prosperous New Year !


Then a happy Solstice to you who celebrate the season called "Winter",
and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate the holiday season, which
could easily have been set at any time of the year.

I just wish I could figure out how to fly fish on a frozen lake...

On Dec 21, 9:49*pm, Mark Allread none@none wrote:
On 12/21/2010 08:57 AM, Ken Fortenberry wrote:

In light of all the pseudo-Christian, Glenn Beck University,
revisionist history and other utter nonsense which has been
polluting this forum of late I would like to remind one and
all that the Winter Solstice occurs this evening at 5:38 CST.

The Winter Solstice *is* the reason for the season. I wish
all on roff a Cool Yule and a healthy, prosperous New Year !

Then a happy Solstice to you who celebrate the season called "Winter",
and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate the holiday season, which
could easily have been set at any time of the year.

I just wish I could figure out how to fly fish on a frozen lake...

Mark, just for you, a reprint of "Lyin' in Winter"
Okay, there are folks who enjoy fishing in the middle of winter. Some
are called "ice fishermen," others "steelheaders." I use the
collective noun; insane masochists.
I've been ice fishing before. I was the third man in a two-holer ice
tent. If you've never seen one, imagine a nylon-fabric porta-potty on
the middle of a frozen lake, all surrounded by little flags stolen
from a Smurf golf course. At least, that's what it looks like. Some of
these tents and shacks are very fancy, with solid sides, sofas, TV and
hot and cold running maniacs. More on that.
It was Nebraska in late January. I was invited to join Henry and John
to fish. As a fly fisherman, I show up with my fly rod and a chainsaw.
I figure I can cut a long, keyhole shape in the ice and get two or
three casts before the guides freeze up.
The guys invite me into their tent. My 8'6" five weight won't fit, so
I leave it at the door. I keep the chainsaw, noting the crazed look in
the eyes of these erstwhile "friends." Self defense, 'doncha know.
The interior is sparse. Two upturned 5 gallon buckets in a line with a
kerosene space heater in the middle. They are facing two holes in the
ice. Two fishing rods that have been taken away from their mothers too
soon sit on little stands; the lines go into the water.
I need a hole. Hmm, never had cause to utter that sentence before. I
mention this to Henry, he steps outside the tent and brings in "the
drill." This isn't your standard Black & Decker. The drill has a 2
horsepower gas motor on the top, handles designed for hands wearing
boxing gloves and a 9 inch bit. Not 9 inch long, but 9 inches across.
This is the WMD evidence that we were looking for in Iraq.
John pushes things back and Henry pulls the rip cord, the tent fills
with smoke and noise. Okay, we got your basic shock and awe going
here. I'm shocked that the thing will start in the minus fifty degree
temps and awe gonna get out before I'm overcome by carbon monoxide.
Henry centers the bit between the other two holes, pushes a lever and
poof! We have a three-holer. 14 inches down and he's into the lake. He
takes the drill outside and then starts to explain the technique.
"Okay, those holes outside are John's and mine. You fish out of your
hole here. We don't have the gear to set you up outside."
"Those are more fishing holes? I thought the local CSI had been out
here tagging evidence from some bizarre Inuit gang war. How do you get
the fish in? You've got no fishing poles."
"Well, the flags are tip ups. When the flag goes up, we run out and
pull up the line. Right now, we have them set for bigger, cruising
fish. We don't want to catch tiddlers."
"You catch tiddlers on your tip-ups?"
"No, we don't want to catch tiddlers on the tip-ups. That's why we use
a flasher."
Okay, thinks I, these guys are suffering frostbite between the
earmuffs. I warily eye my two tentmates in their knee-length parkas,
as I slowly move to the back corner of the tent.
"You flash the fish?"
"Yes, we put the probe down the hole and we can see the fish with the
flasher."
"You put the probe down the hole so you can see the fish with the
flasher and not catch tiddlers with the tip-ups."
"Exactly!"
"Okay, I think I've got it. What I've got, I've no clue. What do you
use for bait?"
"Wax worms."
"Those look like maggots."
"No, no. They're totally different."
"Well, they don't seem to have much action."
"You have to warm them up."
"How do you warm them up?" asks I.
"Just pop a few in your mouth and hold 'em in your cheek." He then
raises his mitten to his mouth and coughs up four wriggling worms into
his palm.
"I think I'm gonna spew!"
"Don't worry about it. They're wax worms. Perfectly clean."
"You're sure about this?"
"Of course, been doing it for years. Since I've started warming up my
bait, I've trebled the amount of fish caught."
John is besides me nodding seriously. He opens up a little cardboard
can and shakes a tablespoon full of chilled, flesh colored rice
krispies into my glove. I summon up my courage and pop them into my
mouth.
"Mmbule, mrammblu bebeme nbm mammods?"
"What?"
I move the wax worms around with my tongue playing sheepdog and
finally herd the suckers into my cheek. "I said, what's the difference
between wax worms and maggots? You said they were totally different."
The wax worms are starting to wake up and one escapes out the corner
of my mouth, plopping onto the ice and squirming away.
"Marketing. No one in the US would buy maggots so they changed the
name to wax worms."
John takes the pepper shot full in the face. He now looks like a
genetically altered Medusa with maggots instead of snakes. None the
less, they are both laughing hysterically.
This is the ice fishing initiation. Henry just had a few "wax worms"
in his palm to keep them warm. With a bit of slight of hand, just spit
into the mitten and voila, there they were.
I, on the other hand, am not laughing. I still have one little bugger
caught behind a crown and a second is heading for my sinuses. Now I
know where they got the idea for so many movies along the line of
Alien. That sucker nested up there. Finally hatched out during a big
presentation I was giving at work.
Time to get down to fishing. John hands me a spare rod. It's about 18
inches long with a little bitty reel attached. I remove my gloves to
bait the hook, picking a couple of live ones out of John's hair line.
Since there is no room up front, I lean over the space heater and
finally set up on my hole. Plunk, in the water with a bobber the size
of a kidney bean. Hey, this isn't so bad. A couple of "friends," we're
fishing and chatting away. Even after my appetizer, I'm starting to
get hungry.
As a matter of fact, I smell something cooking. Doesn't smell very
good. More like burning plastic bags. Smoke curls up around my face.
John looks over and casually comments, "fire."
"What?"
"You're on fire."
I look down, and my parka is up against the space heater. Flames are
licking up from my groin to my chest. I calmly assess the situation.
Ah, yes. Stop, drop and role. I remember that from kindergarten.
Unfortunately, there is no room in the tent for this maneuver. I
believe its time to quietly exit the facility and find a snow bank.
Translate: The scream that I emit draws sharks in from the South
Pacific and sets off car alarms for a 50 mile radius. Many Nebraskans
head to their tornado shelters. I throw the rod and reel, which takes
the path of least resistance and drops straight down through the hole
in the ice. I proceed to beat myself across the stomach and chest
whilst doing a great impression of the Tasmanian Devil in a confined
space. I finally head for the exit.
I hit the door doing about Mach 10. The Velcro closure decides to hold
fast. I, and now the whole tent with me, am now moving across the
windswept lake. The tent finally catches on its two other occupants.
It molds around them like a second skin. They don't move, John thinks
he has a nibble. The Velcro gives and I burst through the door.
As I exit, I figure out that the flames were oxygen starved in the
tent. I know this, because as soon as I hit the outside air, I turn
into a human comet, a flaming blue head trailed by a stream of grey
smoke. I head for the nearest snow bank and discover the true meaning
of windswept. Ain't no snow banks for hundreds of yards around.
Kids are playing hockey. I head out, head down and hip check a ten-
year-old into Kansas. I enter the flagged minefield of Henry and
John's tip-ups. Slaloming through, I manage to snag every one of them
with my mukluks. I look like a Wisconsin limousine kitted out for a
wedding. One tip-up is attached to a state-record walleye that flies
through the air, flash freezes, shoots across the lake, and trips a
figure skater who does the first ever quadruple Lutz. Unfortunately,
she lands in one of John's ice holes and is never seen again.
I finally dive for the ice, rolling and spinning in inaugural Winter X-
Games break dance competition. The officials hold up their signs, 2,
1.5, 2 and a 0.5 from the French judge.
The flames out, I look back and Henry and John haven't moved. The tent
site looks like a plane crash debris field. My 5 weight is broken and
forms a cross over the hole that the skater disappeared through. John
raises his rod and brings up a 6" yellow perch.
I think I'll stick to fly fishing and class V rapids, it's safer.
Frank Reid

Mark Allread wrote:
Ken Fortenberry wrote:
In light of all the pseudo-Christian, Glenn Beck University,
revisionist history and other utter nonsense which has been
polluting this forum of late I would like to remind one and
all that the Winter Solstice occurs this evening at 5:38 CST.

The Winter Solstice *is* the reason for the season. I wish
all on roff a Cool Yule and a healthy, prosperous New Year !

Then a happy Solstice to you who celebrate the season called "Winter",

Actually, most who celebrate the Solstice are celebrating the
return of the sun, not winter.

and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate the holiday season, which
could easily have been set at any time of the year.

Yeah, but that's one hell of a coincidence isn't it ? LOL !

I just wish I could figure out how to fly fish on a frozen lake...

December is steelhead time around the Great Lakes.

--
Ken Fortenberry