Holiday Tradition
Having had the opportunity to chew a few friends ears off on this issue, I thought I'd throw it against the blogger wall and see if it doesn't stick. I have this theory, about a few movies, and its not really a theory, as much as it is a thesis. It involves the idea of eternal return, divine intervention and painfully slow evolution. A could grab a few movies and their plots in order to increase the chance that one of them would allow for a more accurate point, like grabbing a handful of darts and throwing them all at once, hoping one would find the Bullseye, but I've gone over this thing in my head enough times now that it seems easy to choose one example and allow the verbal discourse to flow.
Take, for example, It's a Wonderful Life. My whole argument with the movie arises from George pausing momentarily on the railing of the bridge he decides to jump off of; in the movie, he actually jumps, lands in the water and must be saved by Clarence. The near death experience, and the appearance of his guardian angel create a fictional reality for George to view his life if he had not existed, and as the viewer, one could assume his life is safely secured in the hands of his guardian angel, so a state of eternal return is implied; if George were to be in an accident, or attempt to jump off of another bridge, it is assumed Clarence would be there to again protect and save him from hell, heaven or that place where Christians go to stand in line while Saint Peter decides if they've been good or bad...Limbo, Macarana, Salsa....Purgatory.
George's decision to jump and end his life, before meeting Clarence and before seeing his life as it would have been if he had never been born, is a desperate act and is one based on his life to that point. The role of Clarence is to show him the value he has as an individual to those around him and how his actions have constantly positively affected his acquaintances. Clarence, in reality, is nothing more than the good intentions we carry towards one another, the faith we have that tomorrow will be a better day than today, and is the will's conscious mind preventing the Christian from ascending the railing and flinging his or herself into the icy water.
What follows is a journal entry from four years ago. Enjoy.
8-8-06
Another early morning, I should start giving gold stars. I usually can’t get out of bed until at least ten o’ clock, so I’m happy to report I’m up and partially functional at six o’ clock. Paul would be proud...I got out fishing yesterday morning too, so this must be a trend. The Willow, true to form, didn’t have a lot of surface activity, sort of in direct opposition of the rush and the Kinnie, the Willow hardly ever seems to have fish rising...although I’ve not spent a lot of time on any of the three, (like, all day, camped out, shore lunch, guiding millionaire clients sort of time) to be certain that this is anything more than theory, it just seems to be a trend. The morning was amazing- three otters swam past me, I turned over some rocks and found dragonfly larva, stonefly larva, mayfly and of course caddis larva.
I fished a few runs and had taken apart my rod to start hiking back, but stopped at one last big pool before walking back to my car. The pool was probably a man made invention- A big structure for lurking browns and rainbows. The pool was created by a large tree, functioning as a dam; water spilled over the top and created a deep pool with oxygenated water flowing to the surface- another branch of the river joined the effluence of the pool about fifteen feet beyond it, at about the same area a gravel road, disrupted on each side of the river by, the river, went through the river and had raised the bottom enough to easily stand on and cast from without hardly getting my shins wet, (if I hadn’t had my waders on of course). I’m not sure how much gravel it would take every year to maintain that underwater dirt/gravel road, but it must take some maintenance. Anyway, I hooked two fifteen+ inch browns, big, plump hens that were probably holding eggs, (roe) and were hefty to the touch. The first was a snag hook, but the second was on the nose. I probably could have hooked into a couple more, seeing as to the pool was probably big enough to hold enough fish to supply the city of Hudson’s huck finn population with fresh trout for days, but I left shortly after hooking a smallmouth bass- too much diversity and craziness for me. The best part, the most unbelievable part of the morning, was the otter family. What I thought at first were beavers, or a solitary beaver, was a small group of otters, working their way downstream, tweeting at each other and sort of half swimming, half porpoising along- it’s the sort of thing I shouldn’t talk about out of fear of some crazy trapper folk going after them-
I knew there were/are big fish in the Willow river, I’ve just never hooked into them- I’m glad my presumptions and theories are sometimes correct. Hello.
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