Fishing For The Oldies

Fishing For The Oldies

Bett Dollard sat down under a tree on the shores of the lake. After making himself comfortable, he baited and dropped his line as far out as he could cast it. Tipping his fishing hat over his eyes, he relaxed.

“Huh!” he mumbled as he was roused by a hard tug on his line. Tipping his hat back on his balding head, Brett began to play the fish.

It seemed to go on for hours. His arms were aching, but he refused to cut the line.

“This is the biggest fish I ever caught! I’m not giving up until I land it!”

When he thought his line was stretched to the breaking point, he managed to drag his catch toward shore.

“She’s a beauty!” he crowed as he hauled it hand over hand onto the bank.

He put the huge pike onto his filleting board and started to sharpen his knife. He cocked his head.

“What is that sound? Sounds like a radio!”

Taking the tip of his knife, he began to cut down the back on each side of the spine. Meeting resistance, he tried another approach. The resistance continued. Finally, he sat back on his heels and considered the fish.

“Only one last place to try.”

He slit open the belly. Amid the guts and offal that came spewing out, came a familiar shape. The small transistor was playing his favorite music!

“Boy, talk about extra-long-life batteries! These go back all the way to the Golden Age of Rock and Roll!”

By the time he tried filleting the fish, it was too tainted for him to actually eat, and he was forced to toss it back into the lake to feed the smaller fish. As for the radio, he kept it for fishing trips.