Get Yourself a Cane Pole
I have been debating whether to comment on the subject of this post for a long time. The thing is, I know some of you are going to be a little angry and may even be a little defensive. However the time has come to enlighten others about the obsession that Mississippians have with fishing, particularly with cane poles.
When my Dad helped me move into my first apartment in Jackson, upon leaving town we stopped at one of the nicest gas stations in the nicest part of town. He got out and started pumping gas and all of sudden ran back to the cab of the truck and said "Katie, they are selling cane poles! I haven't been able to buy cane poles in Alabama in years!" I just started laughing and with an incredibly serious face he said "are you sure you want to stay here?"
I stayed. But I must say I quickly learned that cane poles are a hot commodity in these parts. There is a huge lake just north of Jackson, in the city I live in. Actually, the locals will quickly correct you as to the fact that it is a 'reservoir', but it is basically a huge lake for all you visual readers. It does not matter day or night, hot or cold there are always people sitting on the side of this lake fishing. I know that there are lots of people that fish in Alabama, but this is a completely different level of seriousness.
In fact on Thursday night I headed out to have dinner with some friends, and I got stuck in traffic behind this nice little Lexus. It was dark outside but I could see that they had something sticking straight up from their sunroof. I kept driving really close to their bumper trying to figure out what it was. At first I thought "is that a CB antenna, in that Lexus?" Finally when we hit a part of the road that had better lighting I realized that it was a bundle of cane poles. Seriously folks, a bundle of cane poles sticking straight out of the roof of that new Lexus. Can you believe that?
Now for the record, I grew up fishing with cane poles. Actually my great-grandmother Bradshaw loved to fish with a cane pole. She would start with the line behind her and fling it as hard as she could in one motion above her head until the hook hit the water in the correct spot. It didn't matter who or what might be in her way. She had this favorite spot right by a tree, and I could never figure out how her hook didn't get caught in that tree when she would throw it in there.
When I was a kid Pearl Lee, a family friend that means more than I could explain on a Blog, would take me fishing after school sometimes. Every time we went she would make me fish with liver. No, not worms, or crickets, liver people. I am not sure if you have ever fished with liver, but it stinks. Everytime we would go Pearl Lee insisted that I bait my own hook, she said "if you are going to fish, you will bait your own hook." So, I would dig my little hands down in that liver and bait my own hook. It never failed that when we would get home she would say "Child, why do you stink?" And I would say "because you made me bait my hook with liver Pearl Lee." She would just shake her head and say "your momma's gonna be mad." Then she would make me hold out my hands and douse them with Clorox so my mom wouldn't smell me.
I can honestly say that if you had asked me during all those times I smelled like liver, and then Clorox covering up liver, "Katie, do you think you will miss this?" I would have given a resounding "NO". I don't care who you are, or how old you are, if you live away from family, you get homesick on Sundays. But it always brings a smile to my face when I see those good old Mississippians fishing, and it always takes me to a good place in my memories. Do you have things that take you back to those memories? I sure hope you do!
Oh, and don't worry, I haven't gone out and bought a bunch of cane poles to carry around or anything, but it is comforting to see other people with them. Take some time next week and be aware of your surroundings, you might be surprised at the smile that will find its way to you!
When my Dad helped me move into my first apartment in Jackson, upon leaving town we stopped at one of the nicest gas stations in the nicest part of town. He got out and started pumping gas and all of sudden ran back to the cab of the truck and said "Katie, they are selling cane poles! I haven't been able to buy cane poles in Alabama in years!" I just started laughing and with an incredibly serious face he said "are you sure you want to stay here?"
I stayed. But I must say I quickly learned that cane poles are a hot commodity in these parts. There is a huge lake just north of Jackson, in the city I live in. Actually, the locals will quickly correct you as to the fact that it is a 'reservoir', but it is basically a huge lake for all you visual readers. It does not matter day or night, hot or cold there are always people sitting on the side of this lake fishing. I know that there are lots of people that fish in Alabama, but this is a completely different level of seriousness.
In fact on Thursday night I headed out to have dinner with some friends, and I got stuck in traffic behind this nice little Lexus. It was dark outside but I could see that they had something sticking straight up from their sunroof. I kept driving really close to their bumper trying to figure out what it was. At first I thought "is that a CB antenna, in that Lexus?" Finally when we hit a part of the road that had better lighting I realized that it was a bundle of cane poles. Seriously folks, a bundle of cane poles sticking straight out of the roof of that new Lexus. Can you believe that?
Now for the record, I grew up fishing with cane poles. Actually my great-grandmother Bradshaw loved to fish with a cane pole. She would start with the line behind her and fling it as hard as she could in one motion above her head until the hook hit the water in the correct spot. It didn't matter who or what might be in her way. She had this favorite spot right by a tree, and I could never figure out how her hook didn't get caught in that tree when she would throw it in there.
When I was a kid Pearl Lee, a family friend that means more than I could explain on a Blog, would take me fishing after school sometimes. Every time we went she would make me fish with liver. No, not worms, or crickets, liver people. I am not sure if you have ever fished with liver, but it stinks. Everytime we would go Pearl Lee insisted that I bait my own hook, she said "if you are going to fish, you will bait your own hook." So, I would dig my little hands down in that liver and bait my own hook. It never failed that when we would get home she would say "Child, why do you stink?" And I would say "because you made me bait my hook with liver Pearl Lee." She would just shake her head and say "your momma's gonna be mad." Then she would make me hold out my hands and douse them with Clorox so my mom wouldn't smell me.
I can honestly say that if you had asked me during all those times I smelled like liver, and then Clorox covering up liver, "Katie, do you think you will miss this?" I would have given a resounding "NO". I don't care who you are, or how old you are, if you live away from family, you get homesick on Sundays. But it always brings a smile to my face when I see those good old Mississippians fishing, and it always takes me to a good place in my memories. Do you have things that take you back to those memories? I sure hope you do!
Oh, and don't worry, I haven't gone out and bought a bunch of cane poles to carry around or anything, but it is comforting to see other people with them. Take some time next week and be aware of your surroundings, you might be surprised at the smile that will find its way to you!
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Dothan, Al.