TIGHT LINES
Andrew Spencer

NEW YEAR, NEW ME

Time is a funny thing. No matter how hard you wish it would slow down, speed up, add to or subtract from itself, it stays exactly the same. How many of us have longed for an extra hour or two in the day so that we can get that newspaper column written before the deadline? Alternatively, how many of us have prayed for the hour hand to move faster so that we can be done with that pesky root canal? But time doesn’t comply with our wishes. It moves at the exact same speed every second of every minute of every hour of every day of every week of every — you get the idea. And, in that same vein of consistency that seems to be the theme of time’s passing, every January first brings with it a new year.

New Year’s Day, like so many holidays around this time of year, comes complete with its own set of traditions. In my house, the day isn’t complete without black-eyed peas and cabbage (we Texans are a superstitious bunch) and a host of resolutions for the upcoming year (we’re into self-delusion, too). My resolutions — the word itself rhymes with “delusions,” but I digress — have covered a huge variety of well-intentioned ideas. But of all the resolutions I’ve made in all the years I’ve been making resolutions, I think the best one is this year’s. For 2007, I’m resolving to live like I’m young again.

Like Dominic, above, Andrew resolves to relish the simpler joys of fishing.

Now, let’s clear up a few potential misconceptions here. I’m not suggesting that I’ll be sleeping all day, waking up only to eat, and having somebody else take care of my every need. But actually, now that I sit and think about it, that’s a resolution I could really wrap my arms around, but I digress yet again. What I’m saying with this year’s resolution is that I’d like to see the world like a younger man and appreciate all the amazing things around me like I was seeing it all for the first time. And what better time to start re-seeing the world than at the beginning of the year?

When you really sit and think about it, friends and neighbors, kids see the world the way that it was meant to be seen. There’s a reason they all walk around like they’re in a haze; they’re enthralled by the world around them because it’s still a place full of wonder for all of them. In other words, that pesky little hour hand hasn’t made them all bored with the world.

Case in point, look at that picture of Dominic Costanzo up there. In addition to being the son of quite possibly the world’s kindest and most generous newspaper editor, Dominic is also a member of what I affectionately refer to as the “younger generation.” And that photo is proof-positive of how much fun it can be to be young. And in case you’re all keeping score at home, that’s Dominic’s first bluefish.

This year, I resolve to write at least one segue every week.

Bluefish are the perfect messenger for what I’m trying to convey here. How many of you out there look down your noses at the “lowly” bluefish. The bluefish is relatively plentiful, and even a first-time fisherman can get lucky when bluefishing. But that quality works as a double-edged sword. Many anglers have the idea that if it’s easy to do, it’s not worth doing. In other words, unless it involves studying tide charts like they’re the Rosetta Stone, waking up at the crack of dawn and freezing half-todeath, all for the sake of maybe getting a strike, it’s not really fishing.

And, in the spirit of living and letting live, I say to those of you who prefer that experience, enjoy yourselves. But I would suggest that you consider looking at the simple joys inherent in all fishing — bluefish, stripers, perch, whatever — and realize what it is that compels you to go out on the water. I admit to falling into the trophy hunter mentality in my own past, and I’ve got the mounted large-mouth bass on the wall to prove it. But when I try to see the world through the eyes of my new mentor Dominic, I realize that a six-pound bluefish can bring as much excitement and as much enjoyment as that tenpound largemouth bass I caught or the 46-inch striped bass I’m still seeking. And really and truly, it’s just as enjoyable to sit on the side of Miacomet Pond with a worm on a hook fishing for whatever happens to be hanging out in the reeds along the bank.

There’s an old saying that tells us to, “Work like you don’t need the money, dance like nobody’s watching and love like you’ve never been hurt before.” To that wisdom I would add, “Fish like you don’t care what stories you’ll be able to tell.” Because, when you get right down to it, I bet that Dominic can tell a pretty good one about that bluefish. I guarantee you his father can.

Tight lines.

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