Right.

They say, ‘Tell your story.’

Ok, let’s get started.

My grandpa used to take me out fishing on Lake Erie. He had a self-built beautiful cottage by the shore, and a boat he built that would rival anything commercially produced. We’d head out 6am, and he’d run us through the bumps at top speed. So it was more like a banging on the waves than guiding a boat through the water. Believe me, I was hanging on for dear life the first few times. He’d get us to a particular fishing spot — he knew them all — there were markers in the water to prove it sometimes. And so there we’d fish. Catching big fat perch, sometimes two hooks on a line bringing in two at a time. No lie.

The first time I saw my grandpa catch what he called, ‘Sheephead’ (it’s this fish with a big head, smallish body — but they’re no good for eating), he unhooked it and by the tail, smashed its head on the boat and threw it back in with disdain. That’s how I knew. We weren’t fishing for Sheephead.