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snippet 7

2007-03-17

So, in order to spend as much time with Yeti as we could before he had to leave, the moment spring hit, we started going up north every weekend. When Chris could get away, I’d invite Clara and we’d go with three canoes, Todd finally getting his opportunity to take the stern on those weekends, with Ronnie in the front of their boat. Yeti had to go the week after his graduation.

Clara was accepted quickly and completely by the guys and more than held her own on our trips, giving as good as she got in the way of barbs and friendly insults. Inevitably the guys would make remarks about us sleeping in our own tent and would mercilessly beg us to be quiet so they could sleep at night, Ronnie, the little prick, once even getting on his knees and clutching his hands together bessechingly. She’ fire back that they were all just jealous, and that they be quiet themselves when making love with their girlfriends, whom, she said once, in a classic Clara moment, must have all been named Palmsy.

Those spring weekends with Yeti were special and most of the time his spirits were good. Once each trip he’d take off for a while himself, sometimes he’d take his pack with him and be gone for hours, and other times he’d just walk off for a little while. Either way, he’d come back full of life and ready to do whatever it was we were doing. He never fished, but if some of us were fishing, usually Ronnie and me, he come over to whereever we were working the rods and shoot the bull with us, often doing play-by-play like he was describing the action for a radio broadcast.

“And now it’s the fourth cast upriver by Mr. Paul Olsen. The wind is about 3.758 miles per hour out of the Southwest, and there’s a big yellow ball up in the sky doing God knows what.” Yeti doing a plausible Vin Scully. “Paul’s O for three right now with a a lost lure and a tangled line. Yesterday Paul snagged a snapper, but had to cut the line when the damn thing tried to climb his pole.”

“Ouch!” Ronnie interjected.

“It was ugly, but that’s okay, so is he, and here we go... a slight tug... is that a strike?” it IS! What do we have here?”

“Shut up Yeti. Give me the net.” I’d be all business; jerking the rod, reeling in my catch.

“Well, would you look at that? Paul’s caught a minnow! I didn’t think it was possible to catch something smaller than the bait used, but you just never know, do ya?”

“Ya sure don’t!” Ronnie, in a side-kick voice, helping out.

“That is just adorable Paul. We’re so proud of you. Forty-five more of those and we’ll have an actual bite to eat! Just one, mind you, but a bite, nevertheless.”

After one of these episodes I tried to describe my voice/attenuator idea from when I was a kid, foolishly speaking sincerely and going into detail about how the idea came to be and why I’d come up with it. Yeti rolled on the ground he was laughing so hard; the bastard. “I can just see you standing next to the fan. Hey Ronnie, isn’t Ernie still doing the Tiger games?”

“Sure is. Like, what? Fifteen years now? Think I just read he signed a new five year deal.”

“Better get that thing up and running Paul.” Yeti wiping tears from his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” I did have an especially small dead fish, and I threw it at him.

Clara, getting involved, “You guys are sooo manly. My heart is’a pitter-patterin’ with desire being among all you he-men.”

And Yeti, who’d caught the fish easily, now zinged it at Clara, who, screaming in mock horror, snagged the thing out of the air like Brooks Robinson and deftly underhanded it fifteen feetback toward me, and into the bucket.

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Mary Mary Quite Contrary (2007-03-17)
LOL! Sounds like a blast!

Spirited Minikin (2007-03-17)
Awesome...Clara rocks...she sounds like my kind of girl.

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