Twirling Lures & Winded Politicians ~{ ;~J

This spoof appeared in the March 13, 2003 issue of TheLondoner.

After years of missives on governance and roads, a reader e-mailed, "Lighten up! Politics is for pundits. Readers' interests range from scandals and sports to entertainment." That calls for a crossover column. How about imitating that 1950s story teller, Greg Clark? Greg avoided politics and scandal. His material came from fishing and hunting. Now, the fishing season is not exactly upon us, but let's give it a try.

Two codgers in the waning years of their summers sat on the dock glaring at a bevy of girls who had just kicked over the minnow bucket. To the joy of the giggling girls, the little fish had slithered between the planks to freedom.
"Don't worry," laughed the one in the ponytail, "They will be big enough to catch next year. Twins in pig-tails gushed in unison, "Our good deed for the day."
Frizzy-top smiled sweetly and said, "Sorry, Pops," pirouetted and did a back flip off the dock. With glee her companions took the cue, twirled and dived.
Now without action, fishing can be downright monotonous. The big fish were not interested in live bait that day. These two characters, (let's call them Seamus and Shameus) actually enjoyed the disruption. Better an empty minnow bucket than ice bucket. They sipped a couple of cold ones, picked favourite lures from the tackle box and resumed fishing -and commiserating.
Seamus, the bald one, ventured that all four teenagers were blondes.
This prompted his curly friend to say, "When I was their age, blondes were outnumbered 20 to one and redheads were as rare as albinos."
"Maybe so," said Shameus as he made a perfect cast of an iridescent lure, "but au naturel was the hair style. Why, when I was a boy my mother turned gray, and by the time I settled down and married, she was resigned to being white."
Curly responded, "Reminds me of a twist on 'old soldiers never die, they just fade away' -well old blondes never fade, they just dye away. Females deceive us with colouring, perfume, and strategic padding."
"Yup," concurred old chrome dome. "Speaking of perfume, my wife says that signage down by the fish store: 'Young fishermen never die, they just get hooked' needs updating. At that moment his train of thought is interrupted by a tug on his fishing line. "We were just as gullible as this bass going for a shiny twirling lure. That's how we got hooked."
"True nuff," muttered Shameus, and after reflectively rubbing his three-day stubble he asked, "Do you know what happens to old wheezers at City Hall?"
Seamus snorted, "You're wandering off topic, but I'll bite. Thought you'd ask what the Missus thinks the sign should say."
"Don't need remindin," groused his friend. "At our cottage we have 'his' and 'her' towels. His are inscribed with: Old fishermen never die, they just smell that way."
"And for your information, winded politicians never kick the bucket, they just run once too often."