Last week's tease of spring has got me pissed off. I hate winter, I hate the cold, and right now I'm thinking about how stupid ice fishing is. What idiot does this for leisure?
Fishing is bad enough. Maybe I lack patience (I do), but sit back with a beer and watch the toilet flush and find more excitement. Don't say you fish for sport â_ that makes you a redneck. And what's this about enjoying your tasty catch? Last time I checked, the tilapia population of Mendota was rather scarce.
Thankfully some macho dumbass decided he'd add some spice by fishing in the freezing cold. What mental process leads to a decision to ice fish? ""Damn, this couch is way too comfortable; the amenities of civilization are superfluously pleasant. Fuck it, I'm going to go sit out in the tundra and stare at a hole.""
Ice fishermen (a title indicative of intelligence) are quick to point out that copious amounts of alcohol will overcome the bitter cold. This is backwards to me â_"" I generally drink alcohol first and then do something stupid.
Maybe I should back off this staple of Midwestern manliness. If you want to huddle around a hole and stave off hypothermia with toxins, knock yourself out. In the meantime I'll be holed up in the Doubletree's hot tub, using those same toxic depressants to fight my Seasonal Affective Disorder.
