Fishing is a sport that no one in my family or my husband’s family ever attempted. Well, that’s not entirely true. When my husband, Warren was in college, the story goes that he was asked to carry a case of beer for a fishing trip. But, when he jumped into the rowboat, it sank. A young woman screamed, “I can’t swim!” So Warren suggested that she stand up, since they were still at shore. Heroically, having his priority straight, he fished the beer out of the water, and was the only one to catch anything on the whole trip.

When our son, Josh was 4-years-old, we visited with our in-laws in Florida. They lived in a sub-division that was crisscrossed with water canals. Rumor had it that these canals were stocked with fish. Why else would people find alligators in their backyards? Of course, Josh’s grandpa Chuck could never say, “No!” to his favorite and only grandchild. So when Josh said, “Let’s go fish,” grandpa rigged a fishing pole out of rope and a broom handle. For bait, he used kosher salami. I didn’t know if alligators ate kosher salami, but found out that ducks love the stuff. Surrounded, by fowl, Josh, yelled, “You’re not fish!” tossed the fishing pole into the water and ran home as fast as his little legs could take him.

Dave Berry said, “Fishing is boring, unless you catch an actual fish, and then it’s disgusting.”

I’ve gone fishing a couple of times in my life, and found that sitting around doing nothing on a sunny day, on the bank of a river, is just as good as sitting around the house. Of course, Steven Wright reminds us: ”There’s a fine line between fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot.”

I think there’s a certain romance in fishing, except no one ever told that to the fish, and drowning innocent worms seems not so nice. Fishing is a little like golf, except it’s only acceptable to hit a fish with a club if you are out in the middle of the ocean, and no one can see you.

If I remember the theory of evolution correctly, creatures came out of the sea and acclimated to dry land. Had man paid attention, we could have learned some lessons from this experience. Fish don’t have any problems until they open their mouths.

Eating fish can be a dangerous experience. The Japanese have a delicacy called “Fugu.” (poisonous Pufferfish). It is very expensive and can be more deadly than cyanide if not prepared correctly. I don’t know how it tastes because I’m not partial to cyanide, but Fugu appears on more than 80 menus in Japan. The chef has to be a licensed Fugu cook. I don’t know if you have to sign a release before eating the dish, but if it isn’t prepared correctly, your lips swell and you die before you can send it back to the kitchen.

On a happier note, I thought I’d give Josh a chance to redeem himself after the salami escapade. This is what he said: “The last time I went fishing was with a neighbor in New York City. We went out in Sheepshead Bay near Coney Island. I think I actually caught a sheep’s head. It was on a party barge, without the party. You could keep what you caught, including any diseases inhabiting the fish. Going fishing in New York City is kind of like owning a Porche convertible in Alaska---it’s possible, but it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.”

Esther Blumenfeld (angling for a Carp-e diem.)