Posts Tagged ‘fishing’


Some death rattles are cute.

June 29, 2010

When I was very young, our family lived on a small farm in eastern Kansas.  On the farm was a catfish pond that we spent many hours fishing from.  I was the only member of the family to ever pull a fish from that pond.  It was one of the most exciting moments of my young life.  After carrying the fish back to the house, we ran into one small problem.

It wouldn’t die.

We put it in the kitchen sink before it was dead.  Once it was in the sink, the angle made it impossible to deal a fatal blow – and the fish was large enough that we couldn’t get it out of the sink again because of it’s erratic thrashing.  I remember watching my father hit, stab, and even shoot that fish with a bb gun.  But most of all, I remember the fish crying.

Yes, crying.

Some varieties of catfish can produce squeals, groans, and moans.  I don’t know if these noises were it’s frantic death rattle, or just an attempt to create an everlasting guilt in the young boy that caught it.  Either way, it was a long and drawn out process that I’ve never been able to forget.

Worst of all, I found out that night that I didn’t like the taste of catfish.  I still don’t.

At least the ones that cry.


Soccer hooligans.

May 27, 2010

I went hooligan fishing on Tuesday with a friend.  It was great.  Beautiful weather, very few people, and lots of fish.

LOTS of fish.  I’m not sure exactly how many fish my friend pulled out, but I think in the end he grabbed a few more than me.  This was impressive since I managed to get 252.

I breaded and panfried about a dozen of them for the family.  The bones are so small that they virtually cooked away.  They tasted fine, but hooligan are a “mushy” fish.  People told me this before I got them, but the idea of “mushy” didn’t bother me.

The reality of “mushy” did bother me (It was similar to breaded and panfried toothpaste).  Ick.

“Mushy” also bothered my family.

I have been informed that the remaining 240 fish are all mine.  Ick.