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Tips for Lying – Lesson 1

Every major civilization and religion throughout history has frowned on lying. And I wholeheartedly agreed – generally speaking, that is. Nevertheless, I was taught that if you are going to do something, do it well. Take pride in it. Give it 100%. It is in this spirit, we begin Lesson 1.

Whether you are 14 or 40, few skills are more important than effectively lying to your parents. Remember, not everything is about you. Not everything is about your needs. There are times when you need to put your parents’ wellbeing ahead of your own. Is it really going to do them any good to know the real reason you didn’t get home until 3:00 a.m.? Do they really need that kind of aggravation? I’m not saying you should lie often, but the occasional white lie, or fib as it were, has its place. Think of it this way – it’s a win-win.

Tip #1. When concocting a whopper designed to relieve you from attending school for the day, attention to detail is critical. For example, never feign illness by simply saying: I think I got food poisoning. While food poisoning is an excellent choice of illness, because unlike the flu, you can announce later in the day that you have recovered and go out with friends, the lie lacks the necessary specificity. Your parents are far more likely to believe you, and grant you that much needed day off, if you say instead: I think I got food poisoning from the expired Tuna Helper I ate last night. This statement directs your parent’s attention away from you, and to the Tuna Helper. And even if they don’t think the Tuna Helper is the culprit, they will immediately begin painstakingly cataloging everything you’ve eaten in the last 24 hours. The key is to get them thinking about anything other than you, and how completely un-food-poisoned you appear. And also why all your dramatic retching, to put it bluntly, isn’t producing any actual vomit-like substances.

Tip #2. You may have heard the old adage that the three most important things in buying real estate are location, location, location. A similar principle applies to the delicate art of lying. Please write this down: “Deny, deny, deny.” Practical examples:

You are confronted with three eye witnesses accusing you of lying? Deny, and state emphatically and without hesitation, “They must really hate me.”
You are confronted with incontrovertible video recorded evidence that you are lying? Deny, and say while scratching your chin in contemplation, “Wow, I guess they really can doctor any electronic recording these days.”
You are confronted with DNA evidence linking you to the scene of a crime? Deny, and reveal your darkest secret, “I have an identical twin who was stolen at birth.”

Homework (due prior to our next lesson):

Develop and successfully implement a detailed and believable lie which gets you out of attending an unpleasant family function, such as visiting Great Aunt Jennie at the old folks’ home. Note: Up to half credit available if you are caught lying, but effectively deny it.

Next lesson: Tried and true methods to land your dream job by lying on your resume. Bonus material: How to expand on that lie during your interview.

Thank you for enrolling in this course! Trust me, these techniques really do work. Would I lie to you?

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Unofficial Yukon Quest Insider’s Guide

By Jack Edwards

I think I speak for everyone, when I say that there are few things in life I enjoy more than watching people suffer. This is why I am so excited that the Yukon Quest begins in just nine days. What is the Yukon Quest? Think NASCAR, except dog sleds for cars. Watching people suffer at room temperature is one thing, but watching them suffer in subfreezing conditions? Well, that’s a whole new level of toe curling, “Thank goodness I’m not that guy,” satisfaction.

The Yukon Quest is a 1,000 mile dog sled race between Whitehorse, Yukon, and the Alaskan city named after screen legend Douglas Fairbanks. The Yukon Quest’s official motto is: “The Iditarod is for sissies!” The starting point of the race alternates between the two cities. The rules require that the last musher to begin the race neatly fold and then tuck the starting banner into his sled. According to one race official, “Sure the last musher usually gripes about it. But this saves us a bundle in postage getting ready for next year’s race.”

This year’s “insider tip”:

Be on the lookout for Lance Mackey. (Lance Mackey is the Peyton Manning of sled dog racing.) Mackey isn’t signed up this year, yet, but here is an insider rumor. Mackey has stolen one of Amazon’s prototype drones and hatched a diabolical plan. He’s going to use his “star power” and golden boy charm to convince race organizers to let him sign up for the race at the last minute. Then he’s going to attach his GPS sled tracker to the pilfered drone. After that, it’s off to Honolulu for ten days before zipping back to slip onto the trail again and claim the prize. If you see Brent Sass, Hugh Neff or Allen Moore gazing up into the sky as their sleds fly along the course, it means that the rumor is out. They’re looking for Mackey’s drone.

Bonus “insider tip”:

Any of you who are interested in signing up for next year’s race can find the entry requirements on the Yukon Quest official website. The requirements are: 1. You must be at least 18 years old, 2. You much have completed a 200 and a 300 mile race, and 3. You must sign a sworn statement that you will not attach your GPS transponder to an Amazon drone.

Bonus, bonus “insider tip”:

Rumor has it that next year’s Yukon Quest will be sponsored by Amazon.

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https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

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Oo-rah! Let’s Hear It for the United States Marines!

Muscle memory is an amazing phenomenon. However, they say that by the time a man reaches middle age, while he still has the memory, he no longer has the muscle. This can lead to embarrassing situations, usually involving ladders. For example, finding himself dangling from the edge of a gutter screaming like a girl. Of course, this doesn’t apply to all middle-aged men, for example, it doesn’t apply to me. (Hey, the gutter thing could have happened to anyone!) And I asked my brother-in-law, Steve, and he told me it doesn’t apply to him either.

I point this out because my niece, Elise, recently completed United States Marine Corp training at Parris Island, South Carolina. From what I can decipher, the training goes like this. They take a bunch of recruits and then spend 13 weeks trying to kill them. It culminates with a little excursion they call The Crucible (Ouch! Just the name hurts). After all of this, they take the recruits they didn’t manage to completely kill, and they make them Marines. And they get to yell, “Oo-rah” a lot.

After considerable soul searching and deep consideration, I have decided to enlist in the United States Marine Corp. I want to yell “Oorah,” and of course, look down on the other less Marine-ish branches of the service. Only one thing, I am asking them to make a few adjustments. I’m sure they’re reasonable people and will meet me half way.

Modification #1. I haven’t been particularly active over last few years (well, thirty). And it is my understanding that boot camp requires pushups. Perhaps I could be allowed to do modified pushups. You know, the ones where you can leave your knees on the ground? (No, these are not called “girl pushups.” Stop being a sexist pig!)

Modification #2. I can’t think of anywhere I’d need better sleep than during boot camp. But I understand that everyone sleeps in the same room? The barracks? You see, that’s no good for me. I’m a light sleeper, and I think the snoring that unquestionably goes on would pose a problem. I don’t think it would benefit me or the Marines if I hit the obstacle course groggy. Also, it tends to make me grumpy in the morning. So I’d like to stay at a nearby hotel. I’d like to say upfront that I am happy to pay for this out of my own pocket. I’ll leave a standing order for a wakeup call each morning to make sure I’m back on time. And I’ll take care of my own breakfast. Hear the savings? This is a win-win.

Modification #3. The Marine’s boot camp ends with a final test, “The Crucible.” A 54 hour nightmare which includes traveling 48 miles by foot while carrying equipment and overcoming daunting physical challenges. Here’s my concern. I have back and knee issues. My doctor recommends that in lieu of jogging, I exercise using low impact ellipticals. So, I’m happy to complete The Crucible, but I’d like to do it at the gym. Heads up, this is an issue which we’ll need to keep an eye on during selection for mission deployment.

That’s it. That’s all I’m asking for. Yes, it may appear to my fellow recruits that I am “catching a break” or otherwise receiving some perceived “advantage.” And I understand how this might interfere with group cohesion, which is apparently a big thing with the Marines. So in exchange for my reasonable modifications, I am willing to agree that after graduation, while I may yell the Marine battle cry, I only get to yell the last syllable. So no “Oo,” just “rah.” Are we good?

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All of the People, All of the Time

My bucket list is fairly short. My number one item, of course, is the same as yours – to enter the Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest in New York. In fact, not only to enter it, but win it. The record is 68 hot dogs in ten minutes. Child’s play. The number two item on my list is to interview three people. No…… Not any three people. Three people whose audacity has left me speechless. It doesn’t help my quest that I don’t know their names. So I am calling on YOU, my millions of loyal readers, to help me identify them. I want to interview them for a Jocularious.com column before Scott Pelley or that sniveling Piers Morgan get their talons into them.

First is the guy who cooked up the idea of slapping an “L” on a Toyota and calling it a Lexis. Then tacking $10,000 onto the price of a Camry. I want to hire that guy. They probably have a bronze bust of him at Toyota headquarters in Japan. Possibly a shrine.

Next is the guy who concocted the scheme to reduce the time teenagers have to return merchandise. Here’s the scoop. My teenage daughter recently forced me at gun point to take her to the mall. She wanted some stuff from Forever 21. After running my card, the Forever 21 clerk asked, “Are you familiar with our return policy?” (FYI, the phrase “Are you familiar with our return policy?” is code for “We have a really crappy return policy.”) My daughter turned to me (which is, as I’m sure you can understand, terribly embarrassing for her in public) and explained, “It’s 21 days. Get it? Forever 21? Twenty-one days?” Yeah, cute. A really cute way to shave 7 days off a more reasonable 30 day period.

The last guy is the one who came up with charging airline passengers to check a bag. Not a second bag, any bag. The first bag! When he first suggested this in the boardroom, he probably got threatened with immediate beheading. Picture the chairman’s reaction, “Look, Mr. [Fill-in-the-blank], our customers are travelers. With the exception of an occasional Al-Qaeda suicide bomber, they all have luggage.” But this “think outside the box”, “the customer be damned” pioneer did it by golly. He reached for the stars and achieved the laughably absurd. He is probably the same guy who later decided to charge extra for an aisle or window seat in coach. The real mystery is why the airlines haven’t added a “convenience fee” for that smelly seat conveniently located right next to the toilet. Why they’re still giving ice away is a mystery to me. And how about that free reading spotlight?

So people, send me these people’s names as soon as possible. I’m sure Scott Pelley and Piers Morgan have their media bloodhounds out sniffing around for them as we speak. I need to scratch this item off my bucket list, so I can dive into that stack of 69 Nathan’s Famous Hot Dogs!

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The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the legal wilderness at –

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Seven Rules for the College Playground –

https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

https://buff.ly/2roFIov

Celebrating Diversity, One Glass of Kombucha at a Time

My New Year’s resolution is to be more tolerant. I am going to celebrate diversity, even if it makes me vomit. Case in point, my sister. I was recently helping her move some stuff out of her car when I came across a bottle filled with yellow liquid. My first reaction: My sister has turned into one of those urine drinkers. You have to know my sister. She puts the “alt” in the term alternative medicine. I confronted her with the bottle, and she gave me some cover story about it being a concoction called Kombucha. It’s supposed to be good for your digestive track. I told her it was okay to admit she was drinking her own urine. I wouldn’t judge her. I was going to celebrate diversity this year. I told her that I might even put one of those annoying bumper stickers on my car. But she stuck to her story.

I popped out my iPhone and asked Siri to give me the scoop on urine drinkers. According to Wikipedia, urine may be the best thing since the discovery of aloe vera. We should be rubbing a little behind our ears each morning. Urine drinking has a bunch of fancy names. (Let’s face it. This is a tough marketing gig. You’d better have a compelling name to cajole some poor sap into tipping back a glass of this golden elixir). They call it Urine Therapy, Urotherapy, Uropathy, or my favorite, Unrinotherapy. (It also has an old fashioned name, which I am hesitant to mention because it might seem like I’m being intolerant – Human Waste.) People use it for both medical and cosmetic purposes, by drinking it and massaging it into their skin. The pleasant odor is a bonus. You’ve got to wonder what genius decided to harness The Power of Urine.

As a non-urine drinker, I have a number of questions. For example, how is it served? Hot like tea? Cold? Maybe over ice? Is it appropriate to doctor it up a little with sugar or perhaps a sprig of mint? What’s the lunch room etiquette? Is it okay to pour up a frothy glass in front of coworkers? Is it ever appropriate to offer a glass of your “homemade” others? Someone really needs to write a book on this. They can titled it Urine Drinking Does and Don’ts.

I’m surprised we haven’t heard from the whole recycle-reuse-renew crowd on this. Where’s Al Gore? You’d think they’d be jumping all over it like ticks on hound dog.

As for me, I am fully committed to celebrating our differences and keeping an open mind no matter how disgusting the idea may be. The mere idea sickens me. It makes me want to vomit my guts out. But hey, this is the new millennium. Don’t be a hater. Keep an open mind, and celebrate these extremely uncomfortable differences.

As for my sister’s suspiciously yellow “Kombucha,” I only have one question for her: Do you drink that hot or cold?

_______

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The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the legal wilderness at –

https://buff.ly/2K41Tax

Seven Rules for the College Playground –

https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

https://buff.ly/2roFIov

Next Year’s Smash “Must Have” Christmas Gift

It’s next year’s smash “Must Have” Christmas gift. Eager consumers will be lining up like penguins in the freezing cold outside Macy’s at 3:00 a.m. on Black Friday clutching their Visas. Shark Tank producers will be begging me to appear on their show. And yes, Mr. Wonderful, I’ve got a patent pending (well, patent pending, pending – I’ve bookmarked the US Patent Office website). Pull out your checkbook Mark Cuban – you’ll want a piece of this! It’s called Sumptuosus Aquae – and it’s the world’s very first fragrance-free perfume.

Consumers will go bonkers over it, because it solves the problem guys run into every time they add to their mounting unsecured credit card debt trying desperately to please their mate – she sniffs at it like a jug of three-week old milk and then says politely, “It’s nice…, but it’s not for me.” It’s too sweet. It’s too musky. It’s too whatever. She just doesn’t like it. But Sumptuosus Aquae solves that problem. For the very reasonable price of $80, you get a beautiful one ounce spray bottle in a designer box complete with ribbon, or if you really love her, and aren’t just pretending, you can spring for the two ounce bottle for only $120. Sumptuosus Aquae also solves other common perfume problems:

1. She doesn’t have to worry about applying too much.

2. Those irritating people at the office who are overly sensitive to otherwise pleasant fragrances will stop making their annoying complaints to HR, and will have to divert their time to hunting down those violating the strict peanut allergy regulations (that they helped implement).

3. Sumptuosus Aquae is guaranteed to be 100% hypoallergenic.

4. And, as I explain in detail below, on the off chance that you ever find yourself stranded in the Mohave Desert, you can drink it. Yes, Sumptuosus Aquae may actually save your girlfriend’s/wife’s/significant other’s life one day!

Mark Cuban, Mr. Wonderful, and the rest of the gang at Shark Tank will have massive heart attacks and take knives to one another scrapping for a piece of this thing. Why? Because the mark up on regular perfume (the kind that is incapable of saving your life in the desert, i.e. “non-lifesaving perfume”) is just over one million percent. Just below the margin on tar heroin. Well, Ha-Ha to that, because Sumptuosus Aquae knocks the socks off that silly margin. Why? Because of the pure genius of the patent pending, pending, formula. You see, thanks to the fact that only three people currently living in the US speak Latin, no one will realize (at least according to Google Translate) that Sumptuosus Aquae is Latin for “expensive water.” The formula? Water + Love. Yeah, that’s right. We don’t hold back on pouring in the love. We inject massive amounts of love into each and every bottle.

Don’t wait! Pre-order your two ounce bottle of life-saving, fragrance-free perfume at www.SumptuosusAquae.com. Workers at the Culver City Municipal Water Treatment Plant are standing by.

Note from Jack Edwards: If you enjoyed this week’s column, please consider using the various “share” buttons 🙂 Also consider “subscribing,” and we’ll email you the column each week. Just click on the menu symbol in the upper right hand corner of this page if you’re on a desktop (the three horizontal lines), or scroll down if you’re on a cell phone. It’s free, and we promise not to do anything with your email address other than send you the column. Thank you!

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The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the legal wilderness at –

https://buff.ly/2K41Tax

Seven Rules for the College Playground –

https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

https://buff.ly/2roFIov

Oregon’s Wine Country License Plates Might As Well Say, “Pull me over, officer. I’m drunk.”

It’s supposed to promote tourism. Oregon has over a dozen of them. Specialty license plates that drivers can order in lieu of Oregon’s generic fir tree plate. Among them are the Salmon plate, the Cultural Trust plate, the Amateur Ham Radio plate, and the Wine Country plate. The picture on the Wine Country plate is a vineyard with a big WC on it, and if that abbreviation isn’t clear enough, the words, “Wine Country” are printed at the bottom. I can understand a winery owner slapping a Wine Country plate on his BMW, but the sheer insanity of anyone else doing it is beyond me. A “Wine Country” plate might as well say, “Pull me over, officer. I’m drunk.”

Drivers use these plates to make a statement. The Salmon plate allows one to emphasize the importance of conservation. The Cultural Trust plate allows the opera and fine arts crowd to stick their noses up in the air an additional five degrees. And the Ham Radio plate lets the pocket protector brigade proudly announce their expertise. I have to be careful making too much fun of the ham radio guys. (I say “guys” because I’ve never met a girl interested in ham radio). The reason I need to be careful making fun of them is that when everything goes to hell (you know, the Big One hits), I may need one of these folks to help me find my relatives – some of them anyway.

The Wine Country plates are a whole different matter. Drunk driving laws have now become so strict that if a police officer even smells the hint of liquor on a driver’s breath, he is required to immediately Taser that person in the neck and drag him to the nearest hoosegow. These aren’t license plates, they’re targets. I imagine that Salmon plate people like salmon. And I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind sticking a Ham Radio plate on their car who isn’t a ham radio operator. Well, what do you imagine a cop thinks a Wine Country plate driver is interested in? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

So here’s the nut. If you have the cojones to bolt a Wine Country plate onto your car, you need to keep three things in your vehicle at all times. First, the personal cell phone number of a flesh-eating criminal defense lawyer. Second, a roll of Benjamins to post your bail. And third, lip gloss. Because after you’re arrested, you may as well kiss your *** goodbye. (Why risk chaffing that baby smooth skin of yours?)

In conclusion, I pose one question to Oregon wine lovers: Have you ever thought of exploring the time-honored, and highly respected hobby of Amateur Ham Radio?

_______

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The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the legal wilderness at –

https://buff.ly/2K41Tax

Seven Rules for the College Playground –

https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

https://buff.ly/2roFIov

The World’s Best Gift for Lawyers

According to the most recent census, there is one lawyer for every man, woman, child and four-legged creature living in the continental United States. (Alaska, of course, is the wild frontier; yes, there are lawyers in Alaska, but they limit their professional activities to officiating at duels. And Hawaii is the Land of Aloha, and Aloha means never having to hire a lawyer.) Disturbingly, the number of lawyers continues to increase faster than a herd of bunny rabbits loose in a Viagra factory. (Yes, it is a “herd” of rabbits. I always thought it was a “hutch” of rabbits, but it’s a herd. That’s what my iPhone says, so it’s true.) This leaves us with a problem – what to get that lawyer in your life for a gift.

Let me begin by ruling out gifts you may be foolishly considering.

First, forget shark skin – especially, shark skin belts. It’s about as original as grandma giving Johnny that t-shirt that says: “My grandma went to Aruba, and all she got me was this lousy t-shirt.” Besides, have you priced a shark skin belt? Ouch! Find me a lawyer worth that. I’d want to put him on retainer immediately.

Second, no pen and pencil sets. Yes, it’s cheaper than a shark skin belt, but it’s equally as trite. It sends a clear message: “I refuse to put any thought into this at all.”

Here is the answer to your problems –

[WARNING: The remainder of this column is an info-laughable.

Info-laughable (in-fo-laf-able), n. a humorous blog post designed to ham-handedly hock a product.]

So, we have arrived at our destination. The world’s best gift for lawyers. Drumroll, please….

A book. But not just any book – an inspirational book.

No, not a hardback (Don’t be silly. Do you know what a hardback costs these days?). A paperback. An uplifting read. One that comes to mind is The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the Legal Wilderness

http://www.amazon.com/The-Lawyers-Song-Navigating-wilderness/dp/1608443248

You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. And according to 60 Minutes, Amazon will deliver it by next-day drone. But remember that the most important thing about presenting anyone with a book is the inscription. Here is my suggestion –

“Dearest [fill in the name of the blood sucker],

I hope you find inspiration within these pages to brace you through your stressful year ahead, where few truly appreciate the necessary work you do. But, please, I beg of you, do not bill me by the tenth of the hour to read this gift!”

_______

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The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the legal wilderness at –

https://buff.ly/2K41Tax

Seven Rules for the College Playground –

https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

https://buff.ly/2roFIov

Jim Gaffigan: Is He a Hero or Villain?

Jim Gaffigan is the storm trooper of stand-up comedy. Search his name on YouTube or Netflix if his name is a mystery to you. Fair warning, be prepared to spend quality time listening to him expound on the multitude of challenges encountered by the Average Joe, that is if the Average Joe was named Jim and had five young kids. You can thank me or curse me later. His comedy is addictive. That said, people are addicted to both positive and negative things. Aerobic exercise – good (not for me, of course). Black tar heroin – arguably bad. With this in mind, let’s evaluate Jim Gaffigan’s cost/benefit ratio.

You, one of my millions of loyal readers, may ask yourself, who is Jack Edwards to answer this question. Well, I’m a guy with a laptop, internet access (until my neighbor secures his router), and too much time on my hands; that’s who I am. But I am also a “student of the game.” You see, I’ve devoted far more hours than are normal or healthy to watching Jim Gaffigan’s specials on Netflix (complete with frame by frame analysis), and reading his book, Dad is Fat. My copy is dog-eared (My Corgy Walter got ahold of it). Let’s just say that I now know far more about the almost infinite varieties of Hot Pockets than is healthy for any middle-aged man.

Let’s get to it:

Reasons Jim Gaffigan is a Hero:

He makes us feel okay about marching into McDonalds and ordering three Big Macs with extra sauce (enough to lube a Toyota Carolla), and even better about answering that iconic question, “Do you want to supersize it?” with a confident, and unhesitating, “I’ll dive across this counter and slam your head into the McMilkshake machine if you don’t.”
He makes us feel okay about living a sedentary lifestyle, where the most activity in one’s day is placing a Hot Pocket in the microwave and then engaging in the aerobic exercise of standing upright peering through the little window waiting for the seconds to tick off the clock only to break down and push the stop button to retrieve the prize seconds before the recommended cooking time. (Aren’t they already cooked? Precooked? I think it’s safe to eat them like a Popsicle if you want.)
His alien-like translucence gives the rest of us the false impression that our skin is tanned akin to the average Mediterranean cabana boy.

Reasons he is a villain:

See #1, #2 and #3 above – especially #2.

As we can determine from this Nobel Prize worthy analysis, I may actually be Jim Gaffigan. Wait a minute – You may be Jim Gaffigan! Just what kind of a Twilight Zone episode have I been sucked into?

Conclusion:

Jim Gaffigan is a villero. He’s half villain and half hero. You wouldn’t mind having him over for dinner, but you wouldn’t post it on Facebook. He is in truth, the crack cocaine of comedy. Slap a PG-13 sticker on his pasty forehead and enjoy. But, like so many other guilty obsessions, please, don’t let the habit interfere with your day job.

_______

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Check out these great books:

The Lawyer’s Song: Navigating the legal wilderness at –

https://buff.ly/2K41Tax

Seven Rules for the College Playground –

https://buff.ly/2IqXxgn

Seven Secrets You Need to Know to Hire the Right Lawyer –

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The World’s Worst Fly Fisherman Reveals His Secrets to Success

I didn’t set out to hold the undisputed title of World’s Worst Fly Fisherman, the victory just fell in my lap. Kind of like winning the lottery, except in reverse. There’s no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. Perhaps it was my destiny. You see I was raised by a bait fisherman – fish eggs, worms, shrimp, you name it. If it was squirmy or gave off an unpleasant odor, we tossed it in an old soup can and later stuck it on a hook. Then we added a lead ball the size of a grenade, reared back, lobbed, and hoped for the best. I didn’t know what fly fishing was when I was a kid.

Then along came the movie A River Runs Through It, and everybody had a heart attack over how majestic it was. They immediately ran out and cleared the shelves of their local LL Bean, and then raced off to drown themselves in the nearest municipal culvert. It’s not so majestic when you’re standing on a concrete embankment and casting over the remnants of a discarded truck tire.

A river runs through the valley I grew up in too, but if they shot the movie there, they would have had to call it A Freezing River Runs Through It. Scientists who claim that life cannot exist below absolute zero have not been fishing with my father. My dad has a strict policy, no fishing when the weather is above absolute zero. He would explain to you that if you are serious about landing a steelhead, then you needed to set the Law of Physics aside and man-up. This policy will explain the first step in my achieving the World Title: I only fish when weather conditions are ideal – not for fishing, don’t be silly, for me. I enjoy a warm day – not too warm though. Preferably with a nice breeze. This is the first jewel in my triple crown.

My wife suggested I give fly fishing a try, because I had been living what you might call a sedentary lifestyle. (Have you noticed that the word “sedentary” is getting a bad rap all of a sudden?) My particular activity level at the time was just below that of a medium-sized baked potato. So she bought me a gift certificate to a local fly fishing shop.

My first visit to this shop was not a pleasant one. A clerk spotted me wandering around and gave me the onceover like I had just walked into a fine dining restaurant wearing bibbed overalls and a filthy t-shirt. In the middle of the shop was a wooden box containing a variety of fishing flies. It was a large display approximately the size of Kansas. It held hundreds of flies of every size, shape and color. Many appeared identical. I made the mistake of pointing this out to the clerk who was assigned to walk around behind me and make sure I didn’t steal anything. My observation was greeted with slightly muffled arrogant laugh as he lifted two of what appeared to be the same fly and held them in front of me. “A fish can tell the difference between this,” he shook the first and paused for emphasis, “and this,” as he shook the other. I then made the second mistake when I asked, “Well, if a fish can tell the difference between this one and that one, why can’t it tell the difference between either of those and the real bug?” My clerk then made a face which I interpreted to mean that I was hopeless. Which, in his defense, turned out to be true.

By utilizing the time-tested recipe for success – devoting time and attention to one’s new pursuit – and turning it on its head, I finally captured the crown. It was not an easy task, but if you would like to compete with me in the big leagues, if you would like to threaten my title, I have three pieces of advice. First, never set your alarm clock to wake you up at the “crack of dawn.” Sleep in, enjoy a nice breakfast, and peruse the morning paper. Second, if it’s raining, or even looking like it might rain, forget about it. And finally, only fish in “catch and release only” areas. That way, if some misguided fish has the audacity to strike at your hook and disturb an otherwise peaceful stroll along the river bank, you never have to clean it. Oh, and take plenty of snacks.

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