I haven’t written anything I can publish for public consumption lately but I came across a photo I promised to share with Sir Ozzy a long time ago.
It’s a photo of me fishing with my Uncle Joe a thousand years ago in the Florida Keys. Joe was my dad’s brother, the two of them formidable members of the Fighting Bell Boys and along with the third member of this obscure but infamous trio, is retired to the great beyond. At least two of the Fighting Bell Boys are remembered with some measure of fondness. My father isn’t one of those.
The boat was rumored to be owned by Jimmy Hoffa (uncle Joe had connections, he told me). I ate a raw shrimp on a dare that day. All sailors eat raw shrimp, the fishermen told me. Looking back I realize it was just another cruel joke I fell for in my youth – never one to pass up a challenge of my grit and determination to fit in… somewhere.
I don’t have bad memories of this particular trip – it’s all part of the strange texture of my life.
Be sure to check out Sir Ozzy’s blog for fun stories about his travels.
**I forgot to add that I caught several of those fish on the table there. My stomach was black and blue the next day from the fishing pole.**