Good Times And Bad

Gunner with the 5 1/2-lb. bass that made his daddy super proud.

Lookahere, I’m in a tad of a dab of a hurry—leaving for three days on Eufaula (YEEHAW!)—so hush up and lissen. This won’t take long, and includes some stuff you likely won’t believe and others you’ve known for years. Sort ‘em out for yourself.

I’ve got a fan! Finally! Took 37 years, but one showed up.

On Facebook. I don’t do Facebook.

The Right Honorable Brad Gill, a boon companion of the finest sort, DOES do Facebook, as in GON’s. And he emails me relevant results from time to time.

I DO email. (Quit laughing; I got two fangers.)

My lone wolf fan’s name is Dave Payne, of Canton, and he has no clue that I’m writing this, or why. But the story of his 5-year-old son Gunner touched me at a time when I needed it. Look further and you’ll understand.

Here’s the gist, as he tells it:

“Told Gunner I’d take him fishing, but when the time came, cooler weather and a busted pipe had almost talked me out of it. But I had told him; and he was so excited he had told his teachers that Daddy was taking him fishing. So I couldn’t let him down.

“On that day, I was finally getting a bite, so I didn’t pay much attention when he calmly said, ‘I think I got a big ‘un, Daddy.’ I told him he was hung.”

OK, let’s take a break right there. You see, there are times when we need to simply sit back and listen to the younger generation. (A certain fairly recent election sorta slaps that notion upside the head, but we ain’t stoopin’ no further into politics!) Even I was a member of that younger generation (quit laughing) post Ice Age, and my crowd produced the finest bunch of musicians in the history of the world: The Allman Brothers Band. So there. (And if you have to go to Google, you just ain’t got no musical taste a’tall. Caution: their music may change your life.)

But back to Gunner…

“Then I saw the bass’s headshake! Gunner kept his rod tip up and cranked that Zebco 33 with everything he had. Finally, I lipped it for him. It wasn’t 20 pounds, but his 5 1/2-lb. bass was the finest catch I’ll ever see. The look on his face was one I’ll never forget.”

And he concluded with a couple more tidbits that plucked a heart string or two.

“I know you get a thousand notes like this, but I just ask that you share it with Daryl Gay.”

Why? Because he obviously knows that I get it.

There was more, but self-serving is located in the same realm as politics. One final thing: “Daryl is my Hemingway.”

For Daryl, there is no higher praise, so thanks a ton, Dave. On the other hand, Ol’ Ernest was apt to get sloshed and climb into the ring with them Spanish fighting bulls, so right there’s where any implied resemblance ends…

Why did I share this? Just take a look at Gunner and smile. As I share with incredible sadness the news that Mister Buren Mock passed away on March 11, at 98 years of age.

He was pictured in this space only two months ago—with his last buck, taken Jan. 4. He was also featured in the March 2023, issue, so I won’t go into detail here except to say that I don’t have many heroes.

But Buren Mock was one of them.