Fishing

This is a journal entry about a strong passion my brother has.

Journal #7-Fishing
Dacey Dickerson

Fishing is a passion that a lot of people in my family have. I have a ‘like’ for fishing, but it’s not my passion. However, for my brother, Lonnie, it is a passion. Lonnie is 27 years old. He is just now moving back here from New Jersey. He missed Ohio, he says. This is where we were both raised.

Both, Lonnie and I, would have most of our childhood with our mom and go to our dad’s on the weekends. Our weekends with our father consisted of going to a pay lake on Friday and staying all weekend until Sunday. Every meal mainly consisted of hotdogs or cheeseburgers on the grill, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We ate chips and junk food every day. Pop and water were the two main liquids we would drink for three days straight.

It was routine and we all quickly became familiar with the drill. As soon as we pulled in, we would buy our twelve-hour tickets and pick our spot. Once we have our spot, we would immediately get our poles in the water. When you go to a pay lake, every minute counts. Once the poles are in the water, it’s time to unload the rest of the equipment and get bait set up. After we were all unpacked, we could enjoy the outdoors. We made sure, as a family, to keep an eye on the bobber, eat, play cards, then eat some more.

I have a spot in my heart for fishing still, but I feel as if it runs deeper for my brother. When he would visit us on leave, when he still lived in New Jersey, Lonnie would leave his wife and hide her at our aunt’s house while going fishing all night at a pay lake and then crash at our dad’s house. That might be why they’re getting a divorce. Not a week goes by that he doesn’t go fishing. Maybe his next big catch will be a female with a bait bucket in one hand and a cheeseburger in the other. If he’s really lucky, she’ll have a 12 hour ticket in her back pocket.