What about me Wednesday (Memorable moments)

Year: 1988
Location: Raleigh, North Carolina


Prologue: In my extended family there was one person with whom I shared a kindred spirit with. It was my Grandpa on my Mother's side. He loved gadgets, gizmos, and toys of all kinds. The more I become an adult, the more I see the similarities in us. After working for 30 years as a computer salesman for IBM during a time when Computers were the size of refrigerators, he opened 5 video stores in Raleigh, and ran them with my Grandma until Blockbuster bought them out. I recently heard the Taylor Swift song "Best Day", about how her mother could make any day a best day. That reminded me of one of the best days of my childhood.

In the early morning of a warm spring day, I was getting dressed for my day with Grandpa. My parents and new baby sister had come down for an easter visit in late april. So there I was, almost 8 years old, and looking no bigger then 6. I was about 40-45 pounds, and always moving. It was no fun if you stood still all the time. That's what grown-ups did, and it was BORING! So I pulled on my jeans, they were my new jeans that mom had brought down to look nice for Grandma and Grandpa. They were the only jeans I had with me though, so on they went. I put on my G.I. Joe T-shirt with a picture of Sgt. Slaughter in his Slaughter mobile with explosions going on all around it. The rest of the shirt was a camo design with bright orange stripes around the collar and the end of the sleeves. I wore a baseball cap that was far too big for me even on the smallest setting. That didn't matter though, cause today It was going to be just me and Grandpa. No mom fussing over me, no Dad telling me to behave, and especially no whiny little baby sister to take the attention away or start crying cause someone sneezed or something. No, today was just us, and we were going FISHING!

Grandpa had taken me fishing the year before, and we had caught snapper fish. So after I got myself dressed I ran through the halls of my Grandparents one story ranch home as fast as I could. I didn't need to run that fast, it was just more fun that way. I arrived in the kitchen and declared that I was ready to go. Grandma and Mom were packing our lunch. I think Dad was trying to get Sis to eat some baby mush. She was having none of it though, always the pickiest eater. Grandpa came walking out in his short sleeved button up shirt, glasses case and cigarettes in the shirt pocket, light blue shorts that came up way past his knees, and a fishing baseball cap wore the same way my dad wears them. The brim just touching the top of his head so it looks like his head extends upwards 3-4 inches. I had learned not to question the fashion choices of Grown-ups through my Mom's constant lectures, still...Grandpa dressed so weird.

After the goodbyes, it was out to the garage to pick out the poles. My Grandpa's garage was a pretty cool place. He had a stuffed Sailfish mounted on the wall that i would always ask how he'd caught it. A story which he was always happy to share. He had posters that had all the freshwater and saltwater fish in and around North Carolina. His tool bench in the back had any spare part you could imagine, along with his 3-4 RC cars that he maintained. And towards the end of the garage were 20-30 fishing poles. I chose the blue and black pole with the felt handle that had a thin red line going around it. My grandpa picked a thicker pole with cork handle. We left the oil smell of the garage for the sweet air of North Carolina. That always was fasinating to me about NC. The air just smelled better then NY, and the roads were a LOT cleaner too. It was the most beautiful place I'd ever seen up until that point of my life.

Before leaving, we posed for my mom to take a picture, a picture that would end up in my wedding montage 20 years later cause of how much it meant to me. Then we were off with my Mom's final warning of "Try not to get too dirty". Totally ignoring her, I ran to the door of my Grandpa's silver Chrysler Fifth Avenue. This car was really cool. It had deep blue felt seats like a couch, but the coolest thing about it was that it TALKED to you. It would tell you in a polite woman's voice who sounded alot like my first Grade teacher whether the door was open, or the seat belt needed to be fastened, and even tell you when to get Maintenence...whatever that was. For this reason alone, this was viewed by me as a Magic car, like KITT on Knight Rider.

"Riley! Not that one, we're going in the Station Wagon today." Needless to say that the wood paneled station wagon that my grandpa had as his second car was not magical at all, more like an oven on wheels in which the A/C barely worked. But it was still a day with Grandpa, so after a fraction of a second of dissapointment, I run over to that car. We put the poles in the back, and head off. A quick stop at the live bait shop where my Grandpa proudly introduced me to everyone, he bragged about how i was in all advance classes at school, and I saw all kinds of squishy slimy animals used as bait...mostly worms. back in the car, and we were off to the same place we had gone the last time. It was a small pond off a larger lake. You could park your cars at the bottom of a very small yet steep hill, and after a 20 foot climb, there was a little grass covered bank where you could fish off of. It was a great spot, extremely quiet, the fish were always there, and the sun wasn't in your eyes until the beautiful sunset at the end of the day. I couldn't wait to see it again.

Well it turns out that I would have to wait another 2 years to see it again, cause it was closed by the parks authority that day for some unknown reason. But to my Grandpa, this was just a minor inconvinience. Cause he had another spot, a better spot! How could there be a better spot...I mean it was just impossible, but a half hour drive later I was proven wrong. This spot was very different then the other one. We parked the car at the end of a road, and started walking into the woods. Through a bunch of tall long grass that went over my 3 foot head at the time, and then we were there. It was a little hidden away beach. Totally devoid of anything, just a bare strip of sand on the side of the lake, and it was all ours! WOW! My Grandpa is so cool. How did he find this place, he must be really smart.

But there was no time to ask how my grandpa knew about this alcove of tranquility, cause it was time to get fishing. We were fishing for bottom feeders, so right above the bait, we attached sinkers. They were little weights shaped like fish. My Grandpa showed me how to cast again in case I'd forgotten....like I'd ever forget one the of the funnest things ever! I was a great caster, I got it really far in the lake, and Grandpa said that was good. I would sometimes let it go too early and it would go off to one side, but usually Grandpa would catch it with his back before it went in the water. He'd make funny noises and sometimes say bad words when he "caught" it, but it would only happen a few times before Grandpa would want to try a different location. The different location always seemed to be further away from me for some odd reason, but I was always to stay where I was lest the fish come back over to that side once Grandpa started fishing a little further down. I didn't want to let him down, so I listened.

The day past, and we had our lunch, Grandpa asked me about school, and friends that I had. How I felt about being a Big brother now, and what that meant. Apparently I had to look out for my sister, and protect her. As far as I was concerned, the only thing I had to look out for regarding my sister was projectile vomit, course I had learned that you didn't say such things out loud to grown-ups. That was always one of my Mom's louder lectures, and one which she would repeat every year or so, when I'd forget the lesson momentarily in some public venue. My grandpa caught 4-5 fish that day, and I had caught only 1. Not only that, but it was the smallest of the lot, which was just insult to injury as far as I was concerned. However the catch of the day came just before it was time to leave. My Grandpa had got one, but suddenly he called out "Riley, Riley! This one is too much for me, I'm going to need your help!"

GRANDPA WAS IN TROUBLE! I reeled in my line and ran to my grandfather's aid as fast as my little legs could carry me. He told me to help him by grabbing the pole, and holding it. This was a BIG fish, I could feel it pulling, and could see how Grandpa had been having trouble with it. Good thing I was there!

"Riley, think you can hold it while I get the net?"

"Sure...No problem" I replied, and summoning all my 7 years of strength I steeled myself. I would not let go of that pole, I would not let this fish get away. My Grandfather let go of the pole, and I felt the full force of the beast. I put up a valiant struggle for about...2 seconds before falling face first into the Carolina mud, and being dragged five feet before I managed to stop myself. But...I still was holding onto the pole. I would NOT let it go, the fish would NOT win! Realizing that the beast was too strong for me, I locked the fishing pole, the mechanism that stopped the reel from spinning snapped into place and the sturdy cork pole started to pull and bend. But I was bigger, and I was stronger, and I pulled and yanked on that pole, I pulled it and myself out of the mud, past my very relieved Grandfather who offered help, but I just muttered "I got it I got it." and 20 feet back onto the beach till I dragged the fish itself out of the water. There it was the gargatuan beast that had tried to drown me...a 9 pound catfish.

My grandfather congratulated me on a well fought catch, and only then did I realize that my once white sneakers,my new jeans, and brightly colored G.I Joe Shirt were now caked with about a half inch thick coating of light orange North Carolina clay. My first thought...."My mom's gonna kill me!"


Epilogue: Well my mother didn't kill me, but did have quite the kiniption fit upon the sight of me. I was immediately quarantined, showered and changed. I remember as my Mom scrubbed me, i was so afraid that I would never be allowed fishing again, that I made up some cockamamie story about my Grandpa taking me hang gliding and landing in the mud. My mom was probably just tired from the day she had, cause somehow she seemed to buy it, even though looking back, she knew exactly where we were going. Maybe she just let that one slide...
The best thing about the shower was that I missed having to clean the fish, and just got to eat them at the end of the day. Looking back now 20 years later, I have many memories of my Grandfather. His collection of Go-bots that was bigger then mine. His cool antique Generation 1 transformer toys that he left me when he past away in 1998. His closet full of betamax tapes from his video stores. Watching the Johnny Carson tonight show videos with him after Johnny Carson retired. But none stick out more then that fishing day. It was just...the best day.

I love you Grandpa, you are missed.