My dad can fish. Holy cow can he fish. Here is from a trip with friends last Saturday holding an eleven pound fish (I think it is a Striper). Growing up he would plan trips for my brother and I to go fishing and I still get a creaking in my bones anytime I smell the air at 5am. While I enjoyed being with my dad and my brother as we cast lines, I never have been a much of an angler.
However, like my dad, I fish but in a different way. Since my reading of Ched Myers' "Binding the Strong Man" back in college, I have taken the "fishing for men" motif in Mark to heart.
One year ago I posted on this theme and as I look at this picture of my dad, I am reminded of it.