This would go quite nicely over my tying desk. The one without a chair.
JA
Sunday, February 27, 2011
My New Chair
So I went to my local antique store, Clocktower Antiques of Branford, to find a desk chair for my tying desk - I've been using an old rocking chair that is useless as a tying perch. I didn't find a chair, but I did find a painting from 1994 for just $6,500. I stood there for quite some time bellowing at fellow browsers about its amazing color, resonance and sheer significance, then the shop owner came over and politely asked me to leave. Afterwards I fantasized about picking the thing up and just casually walking out the door with it, waving sincere thanks to Mr Shop Keeper on the way ("Same time next week. Jolly good!") Pete Townsend used to do this in guitar stores - grab one then run for it. But he was younger than I am now. And I had my 6 year old daughter with me. And it's illegal. It was only a fantasy. Honest.
This would go quite nicely over my tying desk. The one without a chair.
JA
This would go quite nicely over my tying desk. The one without a chair.
JA
Friday, February 25, 2011
In Open Praise of Russell Chatham
If you've read anything on here, you know that "literary critic" was not what I was put on Earth to be. I'd like to leave that to Brayshaw and select other friends who are good writers, but they're just not prolific enough. Anyway, I don't pay much heed to what critics say. They're all at it, after all. But (yep, there she is), I need to get this next post off my chest. Afterward, I promise I'll try to play nice, as the grammatically awkward saying goes.
What follows is a correspondence following the 1976 (Vol 1, Issue 6) Water Fowl Edition of Gray's Sporting Journal, in which appeared a Russell Chatham story called The Great Duck Misunderstanding. I hope by putting it here I do mild justice to the Journal's original tenor, and pray that I don't come across as a Chatham groupie. Given the next paragraph, the fact that I adore Chatham's writing, named this Blog after one of his books (credit: Brayshaw), and plot daily to divert my progeny's college fund that I may afford but one of his lithographs, I doubt I shall succeed in the latter.
These two letters capture my only true bias in the realm of field sports: that to be narrow, stuffy, closed minded is to deny the reality, the fun, the experience of it all. The response below envisions a sport best enjoyed in the context of whatever else we do, providing wholesome development only where counter-weight exists. It tells of why the pervading market (in '77 as now) for how-to-do-it writing is to opt for journalism over literature (Note: one of these is better than the other). It even has a note on conservation, of striped bass in this case. More, it says something to me about the importance of nurturing excitement in reality rather than keeping the real stuff, the fun stuff (and yes, the cussin) hidden under wraps. Wider implications here, right? In this aspect it is even more relevant today than it was in 1977, and again I hope this isn't off-message to what the author intended.
Many of the invisible people that I pretend to write this to will have read Chatham's book Dark Waters, which contains the story that so shocked some of Gray's readership. Brayshaw gave me the book, so you know who to credit or blame, depending on your point of view. Again remarkably, the book isn't really about fishing and on the face of it, the story, as its title suggests, revolves around cooking duck to perfection, the emotions of grease, wine and men.
I did tell you I'm no critic. But at least now I can play nicely.
JA
What follows is a correspondence following the 1976 (Vol 1, Issue 6) Water Fowl Edition of Gray's Sporting Journal, in which appeared a Russell Chatham story called The Great Duck Misunderstanding. I hope by putting it here I do mild justice to the Journal's original tenor, and pray that I don't come across as a Chatham groupie. Given the next paragraph, the fact that I adore Chatham's writing, named this Blog after one of his books (credit: Brayshaw), and plot daily to divert my progeny's college fund that I may afford but one of his lithographs, I doubt I shall succeed in the latter.
These two letters capture my only true bias in the realm of field sports: that to be narrow, stuffy, closed minded is to deny the reality, the fun, the experience of it all. The response below envisions a sport best enjoyed in the context of whatever else we do, providing wholesome development only where counter-weight exists. It tells of why the pervading market (in '77 as now) for how-to-do-it writing is to opt for journalism over literature (Note: one of these is better than the other). It even has a note on conservation, of striped bass in this case. More, it says something to me about the importance of nurturing excitement in reality rather than keeping the real stuff, the fun stuff (and yes, the cussin) hidden under wraps. Wider implications here, right? In this aspect it is even more relevant today than it was in 1977, and again I hope this isn't off-message to what the author intended.
Many of the invisible people that I pretend to write this to will have read Chatham's book Dark Waters, which contains the story that so shocked some of Gray's readership. Brayshaw gave me the book, so you know who to credit or blame, depending on your point of view. Again remarkably, the book isn't really about fishing and on the face of it, the story, as its title suggests, revolves around cooking duck to perfection, the emotions of grease, wine and men.
I did tell you I'm no critic. But at least now I can play nicely.
JA
-A Person
South Carolina Dear Mr Person,
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Watch this film
A pleasure in every sense.
A Steelhead Family - Official HD video 3.1 from Andrew Hardingham on Vimeo.
JA
A Steelhead Family - Official HD video 3.1 from Andrew Hardingham on Vimeo.
JA
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Brayshaw in Running for Gray's Angling Column?
Midcurrent's Marshall Cutchin says “Gray’s editor Jim Babb let us know yesterday about his decision to retire as angling columnist of the magazine after 16 years to pursue more book writing (he’ll remain the editor of Gray’s). That means a rare opportunity for someone to write a regular column for one of outdoor journalism’s brightest showcases.”
"Basically, everyone gets the same treatment: I want to see two sample Gray's columns, as polished as the writer can make them: one on fly fishing, one on whatever; they have to run between 1450 and 1485 words, and must be emailed to me not later than June 1, 2011. How soon they come doesn't matter--I won't be making a decision until after I've read them all--but crowding the last week might matter."
The new writer's first column will run in the March/April 2012 fly-fishing special, and there will be seven columns a year. Send your work to Jim Babb at editorgsj@gmail.com.
You heard it here last.
JA
"Basically, everyone gets the same treatment: I want to see two sample Gray's columns, as polished as the writer can make them: one on fly fishing, one on whatever; they have to run between 1450 and 1485 words, and must be emailed to me not later than June 1, 2011. How soon they come doesn't matter--I won't be making a decision until after I've read them all--but crowding the last week might matter."
The new writer's first column will run in the March/April 2012 fly-fishing special, and there will be seven columns a year. Send your work to Jim Babb at editorgsj@gmail.com.
You heard it here last.
JA
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Signs of Spring #2
Crocus shoots under the eves were the first. I observed the second today:
Get that bird feed shit outa there and get on with the spring lawn prep shit people! I'm totally digging this phenology lark.
Get that bird feed shit outa there and get on with the spring lawn prep shit people! I'm totally digging this phenology lark.
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