When it comes right down to it, many of us, probably most of us, are creatures of habit whose lives are governed, more or less, by an almost superstitious need to have certain things remain the same.
To illustrate my point, in about two weeks I will get up on a Tuesday morning, head into town and visit the local fishing tackle store where I will fork over five dollars cash to purchase this year’s fishing licence. I have bought my fishing licence on the same day for the past 53 years.
It was my father who took me to Gerlovin’s Hardware Store and paid for my first licence. As I recall, it cost two dollars. The following year, my sister, who had saved up her allowance, gave me the money to pay for the licence. She has given me the money every year since. No matter what city we might be living in or what end of the country, I know I can always count on a birthday card arriving in the mail with a cheque inside – along with some good luck.
Over the course of the past half century I have also bought (and/or been given) a fair number of new rods and reels, not to mention, tackle boxes, plugs, lures, fly lines, flies and fly boxes. Over those many years I have progressed from a beat up Old Pal metal tackle box to classic silver aluminum Wheatley fly boxes to those new high-tech, hard plastic hermetically sealed fly boxes with o-rings they make now-a-days. All have been stuffed into the same Woods shoulder bag that I have carted around since I was a kid. That canvas bag, with its leather trim, was a gift from my father and has gone of on every fishing trip I’ve been on since the day he gave it to me. It gives me good luck.
To further illustrate my point about superstition and/or being a creature of habit, one day when I was about 10 years old, I pinned a small Leave It To Beaver badge with a picture of Jerry Mathers as the Beaver onto the outside pocket of my Woods bag. It is still there. The Beaver and I have gone on many a fishing trip together. The badge gives me good luck. Perhaps some day, if I ever meet Mr. Mathers, I will ask him if he wants to go fishing. Can you imagine what kind of luck having Beaver Cleaver in person sitting in the boat with me might bring?
Some habits are more of a statement than a superstitious belief. The first thing I do when I arrive at a lake to go fishing is take my cell phone out of my pocket and put it in the glove compartment of my vehicle. The second is to stand there in front of the cabin and take a good, long look at the lake. In part, I am looking to see what insect hatches may be coming off. I also want to see if there are any fish jumping or feeding on the surface. To a greater extent, however, I am in my mind’s eye looking out at the next few days of my life. In some ways I am also communing with nature, with the fish, the dragonflies buzzing in and out among the reeds and the birds that are singing away in the bullrushes. It is at this point that I am also inclined to say a short, silent prayer to the Creator, Mother Nature and the spirits that whisper to me in the breeze that blows across the water. In my prayer I am not beyond asking for some added good luck.
There are few people I know that would ever accuse me of being organized. However, having said that, when I’m in my boat, I like to have everything in its place. I stow my gear in the bow and, once in the boat, put the Woods bag down on the floor right in front by my feet. A cooler with my lunch always sits on the seat beside me to my left. My net is always on the right-hand side, handle stuffed into the seat brace.
Call me superstitious and/or a creature of habit, but all I know is that when I have everything in its proper place, it seems to bring me good luck.
