Category Archives: Nature

What’s in my Kayak

18 Friday Sep 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Retirement, Uncategorized, Weight Loss

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As I’ve written about so many times, I love to fish.

I have a 12-foot Wilderness Systems kayak that I bought from a dear friend. It has become my little fishing machine, although I’m not sure the fish are nearly as impressed with it as I am.

I found the kayak on Facebook Marketplace when I was looking for one. The only problem was that my friend lived in Knoxville, Tennessee.

Nearly six hours from my house.

Surely, I could have found a kayak closer to home. But my friend was going through a difficult situation. Her husband had taken off and drained her bank account, and she desperately needed the money. I bought the kayak for $700, even though it was worth more than $1,500.

So I made the nearly six-hour drive to Knoxville.

Six hours there. Six hours back.

But I saved over $800.

I’m not sure if that qualifies as a bargain or just an excuse to spend twelve hours in my truck.

The most expensive piece of equipment on my kayak is my Garmin Striker Vivid 7cv fish finder.

Has it helped me catch more fish?

Probably not.

But it does tell me the water temperature, my direction of travel, water depth, sunken structures, and whether there are fish underneath me. It also tells me how fast I’m paddling.

And that’s probably the funniest feature on the entire thing.

I’m pretty sure I could get out and walk faster than I’m paddling.

The fish finder can show me the 37 fish directly underneath my kayak.

What it can’t tell me is why those 37 fish are ignoring everything I throw at them.

I also made myself a fishing crate out of a milk crate. It holds my soft plastics, hooks, weights, and crankbaits. It sits behind me, making everything easy to reach.

It’s even easier to get to now that I’ve lost all my weight.

There was a time when reaching behind me required some planning.

Now I can reach things without wondering if I’m going to flip the kayak.

I carry four rods and reels with me. None of them are what you would call professional equipment. I don’t think I’ve paid more than $100 for any of them.

I have always believed that you can catch just as many fish with a cheap setup as with an expensive one.

Of course, I have absolutely no scientific evidence to support this theory.

It’s just what I tell myself when I’m standing in the fishing aisle looking at a $300 rod.

I’ve spent several hundred dollars on tackle over the last few years. I’m constantly researching what the fish might be biting, looking at new lures and trying to figure out what might work.

I also have a friend who catches a lot more fish than I do, so I pay close attention to what he uses.

There is a lot of truth to the old saying that it’s not the equipment—it’s the person using it.

Unfortunately, I’m beginning to suspect that might be my problem.

But there is one piece of equipment I take with me that is more important than anything else in my kayak, other than my paddle.

My Garmin InReach.

The place where I do most of my fishing has absolutely no cell service. If I run into a problem, I’m on my own unless I have another way to communicate.

There are no houses nearby. No convenient little convenience store where I can walk in and say, “Hey, can I borrow your phone?”

So far, I’ve been lucky and haven’t had any serious problems.

Well, except for the treble hook incident.

I was fishing with my daughter when I managed to get a treble hook lodged into my thumb.

And when I say lodged, I mean lodged.

We were only about a quarter of a mile from the launch, so I had to paddle back, load the kayak into the truck and head to the emergency room to have it removed.

Thank goodness my daughter was with me to help load my truck. I couldn’t have done it without her.

I didn’t have the InReach back then, but fortunately, I didn’t need it.

And just for the record, getting a treble hook stuck in your thumb does not qualify as a true emergency.

It may qualify as an emergency in your own mind, but apparently emergency responders have higher standards.

The Garmin InReach is a satellite communicator. It allows me to send and recieve text messages through satellites to people I have programmed into the device.

More importantly, if I ever have a real emergency, there is an SOS button that I can activate to contact emergency responders.

Hopefully, I will never have to push it.

Because apparently, pushing that little button can get expensive.

Depending on how I need to be rescued, the cost could be more than $20,000.

Twenty.

Thousand.

Dollars.

At that price, I hope the rescue includes a helicopter, a steak dinner and someone carrying my kayak back to the truck.

Fortunately, Garmin offers an insurance option that can cover the cost of a rescue. I believe it costs around $40 a year.

That’s a pretty small price to pay when you consider what a rescue could cost.

The monthly service itself is also relatively inexpensive. I believe I pay around $15 a month and get 10 free messages each month. If my wife responds to one of my messages, it costs about 10 cents per message.

I use the InReach three times on almost every fishing trip.

The first message is sent when I start my trip. I let my wife and kids know that I’m heading out.

The second message comes somewhere around the middle of the trip. Basically, it’s my way of saying, “I’m still alive.”

The third message goes out when I’m finished fishing and loading everything back into the truck.

My wife usually responds to each message so I know she received it.

All together, that’s about 30 cents per fishing trip.

That’s cheaper than most of the lures I lose.

And I lose a lot of lures.

For me, the InReach isn’t really about fishing.

It’s about peace of mind.

If you fish, hike, hunt, kayak, or do anything outdoors where cell service is sparse or nonexistent, I highly recommend having some kind of satellite communication device.

I know my wife worries about me when I go fishing by myself. I also know that she feels better knowing that she will hear from me throughout the trip.

And I feel better knowing that if something really does go wrong, I have a way to call for help.

Hopefully, I’ll never need the SOS button.

I’d much rather continue sending my three little messages, catching a few fish, losing a few lures and occasionally getting a hook stuck in something that isn’t supposed to have a hook in it.

Preferably, that “something” will not be me.

Because as much as I love fishing, I really do like coming home afterward.

Fishing Was a Bad Idea

16 Wednesday Sep 2026

Posted by in Cancer, Fishing, Kayaking, Leukemia, Life, Nature, Uncategorized, Weather

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I got up this morning and went fishing.

I’ll have to admit, it probably wasn’t the best decision I’ve made over the last few weeks. As I’m sitting here writing this, I’m completely exhausted.

The wind was horrible. And when I say horrible, I mean horrible. If it weren’t for someone fishing with me, I probably would have called it a day and headed home a whole lot sooner.

Once the wind picks up, fishing from a kayak stops being fun. You spend more time trying to stay in one spot than you do actually fishing. Paddle forward, drift backward. Paddle left, drift right. Before long, you start wondering if you’re actually fishing or just getting a really expensive upper-body workout.

A few weeks ago, I started taking a new CML medication. Within a few days, I was so fatigued and dizzy that I could hardly function. Since that was the only thing that had been added or changed, I naturally blamed the medication and stopped taking it.

After talking with my oncologist, he wanted me to stay off the medication for a couple of days and then start taking it again. I did that, and thankfully, the side effects weren’t nearly as bad the second time around. The fatigue is still there, but the dizziness has pretty much disappeared.

As it turns out, though, the medication may not have been the culprit after all.

My iron levels are extremely low. Low enough that I’m having to get an iron infusion once a week for the next three weeks in an effort to get my levels back up to something resembling normal.

That explains a lot.

It also explains why I’m so completely wiped out after this morning’s fishing trip. Between the low iron and that ridiculous wind, getting back to the launch took a lot longer than I had planned. I had to stop several times along the way just to rest and catch my breath.

Once I finally made it home, I was able to muster up enough energy to unload the truck and put all of my fishing gear away.

And that’s it.

That’s all I’ve got.

I’m done.

In fact, I’m so tired that I’m not even sure I have enough energy to take a nap.

Yes, you read that right. I’m too tired to nap.

I didn’t think that was possible.

Apparently, my body has decided that today is a good day to remind me who’s in charge. And after this morning, I think I’m going to listen.

The kayak can wait.

The fish can wait.

And, thankfully, the wind can wait too.

Right now, I think the best fishing strategy is going to be sitting in my recliner and trying not to move unless absolutely necessary.

Maybe My Fishing Days Aren’t Over After All

28 Friday Aug 2026

Posted by in Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Uncategorized

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After my back started giving me issues a few months ago—and especially after dealing with the pain following one of my attempts to go fishing—I had pretty much decided that my fishing days were coming to an end.

I just couldn’t sit in a kayak for more than a couple of hours before my back reminded me I was no longer 25.

Apparently, my back has a better memory than I do.

After spending some time with my therapist, we talked about some possible solutions. One of those was trying a different type of fishing seat that might provide more support for my lower back.

That sounded like a great idea, except for one small problem: finding a seat that would actually fit my kayak.

After more than a month of research, I finally purchased one that I thought would work. I was hoping it would give my back the support it needed and, perhaps, give me a few more fishing hours before my body decided it had enough.

I received the seat about two weeks ago, but between my wife and my doctor’s appointments and my daughter being in the hospital, I hadn’t had a chance to take it out on its maiden voyage.

There was another problem, too.

If I was going to try it out, I needed to go by myself.

Normally, I would invite my fishing buddy to go with me. But I had no idea how long I would actually be able to stay on the water. The last thing I wanted was for him to drive all the way out there, get comfortable, unpack everything, and start fishing, only for me to announce an hour later, “Well, boys and girls, my back has spoken. We’re going home.”

I knew if he went with me, he would want to spend the day on the water. And honestly, I couldn’t promise him that I could make it through the day.

So, I went by myself.

I didn’t leave nearly as early as I would have if my buddy had gone with me. Normally, we’re on the road around 5:30 in the morning. This time, it was nearly 7:00 when I finally hit the road.

I figured if my back was going to ruin my fishing trip, I might as well let it sleep a little later first.

I arrived at the creek around 7:45 and was at my first fishing hole by about 8:30.

I knew almost immediately that the new seat was going to give me more support. The real question was whether it would give me enough support to actually stay out there for a few hours.

I fished for several hours and, while I did start to feel a little fatigued, it was nothing I couldn’t handle. That alone felt like a pretty big victory.

I finally left my fishing spot around 11:30 and made it back to the launch a little after noon.

My back was a little stiff, but that was about it.

And that was a whole lot better than it had been a few weeks earlier.

In fact, I consider the trip a success. I didn’t have to call anybody to come rescue me, I didn’t have to paddle back using only my arms because my back had gone on strike, and I actually got to fish for several hours.

That’s a win in my book.

I also finished my last session of an eight-week round of physical therapy on Monday. The therapy definitely helped, but now I have to wonder: Was I able to stay out fishing longer because of the therapy, because of the new seat, or because of both?

Truth be known, it was probably a combination of the two.

And I’ll take it as a win either way.

Now, before anyone gets excited and thinks I’m going back to spending all day on the water, let me stop you right there.

I’m not.

I’ve learned that I need to listen to what my back is telling me. Ignoring it usually ends with me regretting my life choices somewhere between the kayak and the truck.

So, I’ve decided that 11:30 will be my new fishing curfew.

If my buddy wants to stay longer, that’s perfectly fine.

He can stay.

He can fish until dark if he wants.

He can catch all the fish.

He can even catch the big one that I would have caught if I had stayed.

I’m going home at 11:30.

Because apparently, I’ve reached the age where my fishing buddy isn’t the one who decides when we leave.

My back does.

And believe me, that thing has no problem telling me when it’s time to go.

So maybe my fishing days aren’t over after all.

I just have a new fishing partner.

His name is Lower Back.

He’s not very good company; he complains constantly, and he never helps paddle.

But he always knows when it’s time to go home.

When it’s too hot to do anything.

14 Friday Aug 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Uncategorized, Weather

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I have lived here all my life, and you would think by now I would have become accustomed to this heat. Apparently, my body never got the memo. Even with my anemia, it has gotten too warm for me.

Every day this week, I’ve either had a doctor’s appointment, a physical therapy appointment, or I’ve had to drive my wife to one of hers. That means I’ve had to be outside at least twice a day, every day this week, and it has been brutal.

Yesterday, after taking my wife to the doctor, I volunteered my services to help a friend with his two air-conditioning units. I had planned on changing into a lighter shirt before going, but, of course, I forgot. Within just a few minutes, that shirt was soaked with sweat.

There’s nothing quite like standing outside in 100-degree weather wearing a shirt that has decided to become a second skin.

It’s too hot for me to do any yard work, and it’s even too hot for me to work in my garage. There are plenty of things I need to do out there, but when the temperature in the garage feels like it could double as an oven, suddenly those projects don’t seem quite as important.

I’ll get to them eventually.

Or maybe in November.

It’s even too hot to go fishing.

And that’s saying something.

I was reading yesterday about a lady who was giving instructions on how to make bread in your mailbox. In this heat, I can actually see someone trying it. You could probably put the dough in the mailbox in the morning and have a loaf of bread by lunchtime.

I also saw where a meteorologist had taken his cast-iron pan and left it sitting in the sun for about thirty minutes. He was able to fry a couple of eggs in it.

At this point, I’m beginning to wonder why we’re still using stoves.

Just put your skillet on the driveway.

The ambient air temperature at my house this afternoon was 100 degrees, with a heat index of 115 degrees. When you walk outside, the humidity is so thick that it feels as though you’re walking into a brick wall.

They say it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity that will get to you.

I believe it.

At 115 degrees, I don’t think the heat and humidity are working independently anymore. They’ve formed a partnership.

We’re supposed to get a break in this heatwave sometime in the middle of next week. Along with the cooler temperatures will come a few much-welcomed thunderstorms.

I’m looking forward to both.

Maybe I’ll even get back out in the garage.

Then again, if it’s still too hot, there’s always November.

The Never-Ending Battle of the Yard

09 Sunday Aug 2026

Posted by in Life, Nature, Photography, Uncategorized

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I have a love/hate relationship with yardwork.

When we first bought this house back in 1991, we had one of the prettiest yards on the block. The house was brand new—no one had ever lived in it—and the front yard had fresh Bermuda sod. I did my best to keep it looking good. Back then, I actually enjoyed working in the yard.

Then life happened.

After my son was born, I found it increasingly difficult to keep the yard maintained the way it needed to be. Between work, family, and everything else that comes with having kids, the yard slowly moved down the priority list.

So, I hired a lawn care company to come out every other month and spray the yard.

We used that company for several years. During that time, they went through a few changes. They changed their name a couple of times, and unfortunately, the service seemed to change right along with the name.

After about the third name change, I started noticing a strange weed growing right in the middle of my front yard.

Every time they came out, I would point it out.

Spurge

“Can you do something about that?”

Every time, I got essentially the same response.

“We’ll take care of it.”

Well…

They never did.

After about a year of watching this weed continue to grow while the lawn care company continued to promise they would “take care of it,” I finally gave them the boot.

Unfortunately, by then, that little patch of weeds had tripled in size.

A couple of years ago, I finally realized something rather disturbing.

I didn’t have a lawn anymore.

I had a weed yard.

Apparently, the weed had won.

I finally took a picture of it, Googled it, and discovered exactly what kind of weed I was dealing with and, more importantly, how to get rid of it. I found the chemical I needed on Amazon and ordered a bottle.

Last year, I started my campaign to reclaim my yard.

I sprayed.

And sprayed.

And sprayed some more.

I managed to make a pretty good dent in the weed population, but it still had a firm grip on a large portion of my front yard.

This year, I was determined to finish the job.

After several more treatments, I finally managed to put the weeds to rest.

I thought I had finally reached step two in restoring my lawn.

Then I discovered my next enemy.

Moss.

Apparently, the weeds had called in reinforcements.

I had moss growing underneath one of my trees, so once again, I turned to Google. I found out how to get rid of it, treated it a couple of times, and eventually managed to eliminate the moss.

Victory!

Except there was one small problem.

After killing off the weeds and the moss, I was left with several large, dark patches of bare ground in my front yard.

At this point, I was beginning to wonder if I was actually improving the yard or just finding new ways to destroy it.

Fortunately, I have a daughter who is dating the owner of a landscaping company. I talked to him about the proper way to get grass growing in those bare spots.

His solution?

Topsoil.

Simple enough.

So last week, I went to the hardware store and bought four bags of topsoil. Each bag contained one cubic foot.

I knew four bags weren’t going to be enough, but I figured it would at least make a dent.

I was wrong.

Not even close.

A few days later, I went back to the hardware store to get at least six more bags.

They only had four.

So I bought four.

Again, not even close.

By Saturday, I decided I needed to get serious.

I loaded up my trailer and, after Bible study, headed back to the hardware store. This time, I bought twelve bags.

As I was loading them, I remember thinking, “What am I going to do with all this leftover topsoil?”

Apparently, I had nothing to worry about.

After putting down six bags, I realized I was going to need a whole lot more than twelve bags.

At this point, I’ve put down twenty bags—or twenty cubic feet—of topsoil.

And I’m not finished.

I have absolutely no idea how much more I’m going to need.

All I know is that tomorrow morning I’m hooking the trailer back up and heading back to the hardware store for at least twelve more bags.

Because I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow afternoon, I may not have enough time to get all of it spread. But I’m going to give it a shot.

At this point, my front yard has become less of a lawn project and more of a construction project.

I’ve gone from fighting weeds to fighting moss, to moving what feels like an entire truckload of dirt one bag at a time.

And the funny thing is, I started this whole project because I wanted to make my yard look better.

So far, I’ve managed to turn it into a giant dirt patch.

I’m hoping that once I get all this topsoil down and get some grass growing, it will finally start looking like the yard I remember from 1991.

Of course, by the time that happens, I may be too old to care what it looks like.

But at least the weeds will be gone.

Progress Isn’t Always a Straight Line (Especially with My Back)

06 Thursday Aug 2026

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Twice a week for the past five weeks, I’ve been going to physical therapy for my back. I’ll admit that when I first started, I didn’t think therapy would do much good for fused vertebrae and a bulging disc. I figured it was something I would just have to live with. Much to my surprise, though, therapy has been more beneficial than I ever expected.

That doesn’t mean there haven’t been a few setbacks.

This week alone, my back decided to remind me that it’s still in charge of this relationship. Apparently, I only get voting rights.

After church on Sunday, my kids and I went out to eat. The restaurant seated us in a booth with one of the strangest backrests I’ve ever encountered. Whoever designed it must have based it on someone who had never actually sat down before.

Within a few minutes, I knew it wasn’t going to work. My back was getting more uncomfortable by the second, so I finally excused myself and headed out to my truck to do some stretching.

Apparently, seeing a grown man bent, twisted, and stretched out in a restaurant parking lot gets people’s attention. Several patrons stopped to ask if I needed medical assistance. I appreciated their concern, but thankfully, all I needed was for my back to quit throwing its little temper tantrum.

The very next day, I went fishing with my friend Rick. Before we launched, I warned him that I probably wouldn’t make it through a full day on the water. My plan was to fish until about 11:30 a.m., giving us roughly five hours before heading home.

Well…my back had already looked at my schedule and crossed that out.

By 10:30, it was screaming, “We’re done!” Loud enough that I didn’t feel the need to argue. I paddled back to the launch, unloaded my gear, and before loading my kayak into the truck, I stretched out flat on my back across the tailgate for about ten minutes.

If anyone drove by, they probably thought I was either taking a nap or waiting for the coroner. Thankfully, neither was true.

That little break settled my back down enough for me to finish loading everything. Rick finally made it back around noon. He was fortunate I’d taken those few minutes to recover because otherwise he would have been loading all of his gear by himself. As much as I enjoy fishing with him, I was ready to get home and put some heat on my back.

When I told my physical therapist about both incidents yesterday, she decided to extend my therapy for another couple of weeks. Her goal is to add some exercises specifically designed to help reduce the pain I experience while fishing.

Normally, I probably would have complained about having to continue therapy longer than expected. But in this case, I’ll let it slide. After all, if a few more therapy sessions help me spend a few more hours fishing, that’s a trade I’m willing to make.

She also suggested replacing the seat in my kayak with one that offers better lumbar support. I’ve already started looking at a few options, and I’m planning to show her what I’ve found during tomorrow’s appointment. Who knew shopping for kayak seats would become part of my medical treatment?

If there’s one thing this experience has taught me, it’s that progress isn’t always a straight line. There are good days and bad days, victories and setbacks. But each week I’m seeing small improvements that remind me I’m moving in the right direction.

My back may still think it’s the boss, but physical therapy is slowly teaching it that it’s about to lose some of its authority.

When Good Days Take Unexpected Turns

24 Friday Jul 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Twins, Uncategorized

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Tuesday was spent at the doctor’s office with my dad, following up on his broken nose. After examining him, the doctor decided not to do anything since he could still breathe through it without any difficulty. Dad actually broke his nose when he was a kid, so it was already a little crooked. I guess he’s had decades to get used to a nose that doesn’t point due north.

My plans to go fishing on Wednesday changed when my son called early that morning saying his air conditioner had quit working.

I haven’t had to do much HVAC work since I retired, so it took me a little longer than usual to diagnose the problem. It didn’t help that there were actually two problems. After several hours, two trips to the hardware store, a new thermostat, and a new capacitor, his air conditioner was finally back up and running. It felt good to know I hadn’t forgotten everything I learned after 32 years in the business.

My daughter told me on Sunday that she wanted to go fishing. Since she had a hair appointment on Thursday, she decided to spend the night and get an early start the next morning.

We fished for several hours before either of us had any luck. Her luck changed first when she hooked a big fish, but it got off before she could get it to the kayak. Then my luck changed when I finally landed one. Unfortunately, my good fortune lasted about five seconds.

As I was handling the fish, my phone slipped out of my pocket and disappeared into the lake, never to be seen again.

My daughter actually climbed out of her kayak and tried feeling around with her feet to find it, but it was gone. This is the second time my phone landed in the water, and you’d think after the first time I’d have learned my lesson. I have a phone tether on order now that should arrive tomorrow.

As the saying goes, a day late and a dollar short.

Needless to say, we called it a day and headed home.

After unloading the truck, I spent the next several hours at the phone store getting everything transferred to a new phone. It wasn’t exactly how I had planned to spend my afternoon, but at least I got to spend the morning on the water with my daughter.

I’d gladly trade a phone for memories like that… although I’d really prefer not to make it a habit.

A Much-Needed Day on the Water

04 Thursday Jun 2026

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Today was exactly what the doctor ordered—except for having to get out of bed at 4:00 a.m. I’ve never been much of a morning person.

Of course, it’s not just the early wake-up call that comes with a fishing trip. There’s all the preparation beforehand and the unloading afterward, both of which I could happily do without. Still, neither can be avoided if I want to spend a day on the water.

I’m always worried I’ll forget something important, and more often than not, I do. Today it was my camera’s SD card. I had removed it to download last week’s video and never put it back in the camera.

Despite that minor oversight, it turned out to be a great trip. Rick and I both caught fish, and that’s always a win in my book. In fact, I was already floating in the water waiting for Rick to launch when I decided to make a few casts. On my third cast, I landed a nice one-pound bass. It’s hard to ask for a better start than that.

The fishing trip couldn’t have come at a better time. We’re still waiting on AT&T to repair the damaged wiring in my parents’ neighborhood, and no one has been able to provide a timeline for when service might be restored. Dealing with that situation has certainly elevated my blood pressure over the past week.

Then there’s another situation occupying my thoughts.

My daughter’s boyfriend is planning to propose on Saturday. Quite a few people know what’s supposed to happen, and I guess that’s what’s making me nervous. The more people who know a secret, the greater the chance someone accidentally lets it slip before the big moment arrives.

I have a location-sharing app on my phone that allows my daughters to see where I am, and vice versa. Before Saturday gets here, I’m either going to turn my phone off or figure out how to disable location sharing. The last thing I want is for technology to spoil a carefully planned surprise.

I’m not in charge of the proposal, but I still feel responsible for making sure everything goes smoothly. There seems to be a hundred different ways things could go wrong.

As if that weren’t enough, my son spent this past week in Orlando, and my daughters have been taking turns checking on his two cats. During one visit, one of my daughters noticed the house was unusually hot and humid. After looking around, she discovered that one of the kitchen windows had blown open.

She did what she could, but when my son called, he asked me to stop by and see if I could secure it better. Once I got there, I found that both window latches were broken beyond repair. I ordered replacement latches and plan to head over tomorrow to help install them.

Saturday morning will be devoted to cleaning my truck inside and out. I managed to cut the grass yesterday, so either tomorrow or Saturday, I’ll need to finish the trimming.

Needless to say, there’s a lot on my plate right now.

That’s why today’s fishing trip was so important. For a few hours, I was able to leave the worries behind, enjoy some time on the water, catch a few fish, and recharge my batteries.

I’m looking forward to a stretch of days when life slows down a bit, and there isn’t quite so much going on. There are still plenty of projects waiting for me around the house and yard, and I’d like to spend some time working on them without feeling pulled in a dozen different directions.

Until then, I’ll be thankful for days like today.

Time to Take a Break From Life

03 Wednesday Jun 2026

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Time to take a break from life.

Tomorrow, I’m heading to the river to spend some time resting, fishing, and gathering my thoughts before I go completely nuts. It’s been a rough week.

If you’ve ever had to deal with AT&T, you probably understand my frustration. This is just one of the many things I had to deal with this week. The others will come in a later post.

When you call or chat with technical support these days, you’re often not dealing with a person at all. You’re dealing with AI. I’ll be the first to admit that AI can be useful, but it isn’t nearly as smart as some people think. It’s only as good as the people who program it.

If it doesn’t understand what you’re asking, it tends to circle back to a previous question, and before long, you’re stuck in an endless loop that eventually ends with the chat session closing without warning. And if you’re hoping to speak with a live person, you had better pack a lunch and prepare for a long wait.

This whole saga started last Friday when my dad asked me to come by on Saturday and help connect a new router that AT&T had sent him. According to them, the old router was bad.

As it turned out, the router wasn’t the problem at all.

Dad had already spent time with technical support trying to resolve the issue. Nothing they suggested worked. He asked repeatedly for a technician to come out, but AT&T seemed convinced that he could solve the problem himself. Eventually, they simply disconnected the call.

That’s where I entered the picture.

Friday evening, I spent an hour and a half trying to reach a live agent. After finally getting through, I was able to schedule a service appointment for Monday between noon and 5:00 p.m.

Monday came and went.

By 6:30 that evening, it was obvious that nobody was coming.

I then spent three and a half hours on hold trying to speak with someone, only to have my phone battery die before I ever reached an agent.

I called back and scheduled a callback for 9:00 the next morning. By 10:00, nobody had called.

Once again, I called AT&T and sat on hold for about an hour before finally reaching a representative.

To his credit, he was polite and listened patiently as I explained everything we had been through. By this point, the appointment had been moved to Friday, and Dad had discovered that the real problem wasn’t the modem at all. Phone lines in the area had apparently been cut—or possibly stolen—which explained why nothing was working.

I told the representative that, in my opinion, customer service had lost sight of the customer. If customers were truly important, there would be a way to speak with a real person without spending hours fighting through automated systems and AI chatbots.

There are some problems that technology simply can’t fix. Sometimes people just need to talk to another person.

The representative assured me that our conversation was being recorded and that he would escalate the issue. He said someone from AT&T would contact me regarding our experience, although it might take a week or two.

We’ll see.

After dealing with all of this, I am emotionally drained. The one thing I’m proud of is that I managed to keep my cool throughout the entire ordeal. I could have unloaded my frustration on the representative, but I knew he wasn’t responsible for what had happened. He was simply the person caught in the middle.

So tomorrow morning, Rick and I will launch the boat around 5:30 and spend a few hours on the river.

At this point, I honestly don’t care whether I catch a fish.

What I need is some peace and quiet. I need time away from hold music, automated systems, and frustration. I need to be reminded of who is really in charge.

And for me, there are few better places to find that reminder than sitting on a river at daybreak, watching God’s creation wake up around me.

Sometimes the best therapy isn’t found in an office, on a phone call, or behind a computer screen.

Sometimes it’s found on the water.

More Than Just Fishing

30 Saturday May 2026

Posted by in Family, Fishing, Kayaking, Life, Nature, Weather

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I had the pleasure of spending a few hours fishing with one of my daughters yesterday.

The weather was less than ideal. The sky stayed mostly overcast, and we even had a brief rain shower pass through. Fortunately, it wasn’t enough to soak us, so we stayed on the water and kept fishing.

Like any fishing trip, you always hope for one of those days when the fish are biting, and everyone catches plenty. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those trips. I managed to catch two fish, and my daughter didn’t catch any.

I felt bad for her. It certainly wasn’t from a lack of effort. She tried hard all day, but the fish simply weren’t interested in what she was offering.

The day before our trip, I had contacted a friend who fishes that creek regularly. He gave me several suggestions on what the fish had been hitting lately. Wanting to improve our chances, I made a special trip to the tackle shop and spent what felt like a small fortune on plastic lures.

Wouldn’t you know it, the fish I caught were on an old plastic worm that had been sitting in my tackle box for who knows how long. Not one fish showed any interest in the new lures.

My daughter is still fairly new to fishing, so I’ve been letting her use one of my older rod-and-reel combinations with a Zebco 33 attached. If you’re a fisherman, you probably already know where I’m going with this. It’s pretty hard to create a bird’s nest with a Zebco 33. She used that same setup last year and caught three bass with it.

Later in the day, I asked if she’d like to try one of my spinning reels. I had four rods with me, three of them equipped with spinning reels. Within minutes, she was casting that spinning reel like she’d been using one for years. I think I may already know what I’ll be getting her for her next birthday.

At one point, I reminded her that fishing isn’t always about catching fish. It’s about being outdoors, enjoying God’s creation, and spending time with the people you care about. In this case, it was about a father getting to spend time with one of his daughters.

She’s a young adult, and I’m sure she understands that. Still, I know the trip would have been even better for both of us if she had managed to catch a few fish.

The reality is that her life is about to change. She’s getting close to becoming engaged, and before long, she’ll have a family of her own to think about. I don’t know what the future holds or how much time she’ll have available to spend fishing with her dad.

I hope she’ll still find the time.

As I get older, I’m learning that some of life’s most valuable moments aren’t measured by success, accomplishments, or even the fish we catch. They’re measured by the people sitting beside us while we’re trying.

Yesterday, I only caught two fish.

But I spent several hours with my daughter.

When I look back on the day years from now, I doubt I’ll remember much about the fish. I’ll remember who was in the small kayak next to me.