My buddy Dave came by the other day for a visit. We hashed out the usual problems that life throws at us. You know the ones, the noise that causes us to lose sleep when we know intellectually that there is no immediate solution, no immediate danger, and losing sleep is just dumb.
"Do you want to b.s. while fishing?" I ask, not trying to railroad my buddy into doing something he doesn't want to by using guilt (who am I kidding? I'll guilt, beg, whine, anything to go fishing! My friends know me too well and factor it into visits).
"I should probably go soon," Dave replies.
"No problem, maybe next time." I reply, knowing that the pond will get to work at its job of luring another fly-rod out of the trunk.
We continue to solve the world's problems with our immense intellect for a few minutes, noting that Dave's eyes are starting to wander towards the trout pond.
"Let's fish," he suddenly announces, "We can talk while casting!"
Within minutes, we're gently dropping our deadly barbless Doc Spratley flies into the clear blue water, still solving previously ignored world crises, but now there are long therapeutic pauses in the conversation to detect the subtle bite of a rainbow trout, and to land and safely release them.
Kw and Dave 1 - Life's Stress 0