So the Jerk sent me this video the other day to remind me how sick the fishing was where I used to live in the Bahamas. And to remind me I’m an asshole for leaving. And to remind me that by leaving he can no longer visit. Mission accomplished. Kind of an obnoxious video, but you can see my old house at the .04 second mark. And trust me, when my buddy Deely and I worked at this club we did not take ourselves so seriously: a trip to the airstrip flat would always include some Kalik.
Archive for November, 2011
So this past weekend I attended wifey’s 10th high school reunion at the lobster trap in Essex. Pretty much what you would expect: pretty people who are now ugly; ugly people who are now pretty; people who never drink wayyy too drunk; people who always drink performing as expected; Children that are the smartest, most athletic angels to ever grace the face of the planet; awkward conversations with people who knew you better than you knew them (and perhaps vice versa); old hook-ups; and the creepy old guy that was hitting on every girl there (me).
One thing that I did not expect and thoroughly enjoyed: The girl who no one really remembered who was dressed like a stripper working the catholic school girl angle and handing out drink coasters that were advertising her Divorce/personal injury legal firm.
I kept it.
Never know, if Sarah gets sick of my shit and throws me down the stairs I’ll need professional legal counsel. Professional.
It was nice to be back at the trap…perhaps one of the biggest tragedies to hit the north shore in the last century.
There are so many great things I could rant about today: Andy Rosenberg’s MRAG securing yet another contract to do lop-sided research on the effects of the catch-share system he helped put in place; Poor Carlos Rafael having to forfeit an illegal tuna that he tried to sell and then cried ‘poor me’ over; Crappy lobster prices; Some stupid letter signed by some fishermen that is being taken out of context by the environmental groups (NOAA included) as being pro catch-share; A stupid hatchet wound that now has only half of its intended stitches (it be leakin’); Black Friday shoppers that camp out for days on end.
But it’s the holiday season, and I’m bigger than that…
Happy Thanksgiving from all of me here at the Northshorewaterman. Here’s some boobs.
Mike McQueary- You’re an X football player and around 7 feet tall as best I can tell. There comes a time when you forget about your career; your family; your friends; hell, everything. You forget about everything, Mike, and you whup some ass. Deal with the consequences in the aftermath…which in this case was 2002.
I can’t pin down just how I feel about this proposal. On the one hand, I know that revenues are down for a lot of folks in the industry and a little help could go along way. On the other, by the time the committees and sub-committees are done ‘figuring’ out how to distribute the funds, most of the money will be spent on bs. Then, assuming that there is a package to help fishermen, how do you address the issue of boats going out of business and displaced crew? How can a ‘fair’ package be devised when there are winners and losers in the new system?
On top of the issue of how funds are distributed, there is the image of the industry to consider. In a time when govt spending seems completely out of control, the majority of the population (pretty much anyone who lives further than ten miles from the coast) isn’t going to bitch about the hundreds of millions of dollars wasted on funding NOAA’s ever-growing army of redundancy; they are, however, going to bitch about fishermen getting $21 mil in relief for “sleeping in the bed that they have made”. That’s not going to bode well for political support in the future. Not to mention all of the smug jack-holes that think this is the way the fishermen wanted things to go.