Nothing happened. The fish just moved away slowly and the old man could not raise him an inch. His line was strong and made for heavy fish and he held it against his back until it was so taut that beads of water were jumping from it. Then it began to make a slow hissing sound in the water and he still held it, bracing himself against the thwart and leaning back against the pull. The boat began to move slowly off toward the North-West.
The fish moved steadily and they travelled slowly on the calm water. The other baits were still in the water but there was nothing to be done.
The old man literally becomes a parade float on the ocean in this passage, slowly being dragged along by the fish.
It is officially Independence Day, and I did something this morning that I rarely do: I slept in. I didn't get out of bed until well past 9:30 a.m. Some of you may be thinking, "Big deal." But, for a person who is usually awake, dressed, and out the door by 7:30 a.m., those extra couple hours of lounging felt a little like gorging myself on a quart of Ben & Jerry's.
When I finally did get up, I read a little. Watched TV a little. Ate some cold pizza for breakfast. Then, I got dressed. Again, really unusual for me. The last time I did that, I had COVID in January and was alternating my time between sleeping on the couch and watching Love Hard over and over on Netflix. (If you haven't seen that film, don't judge me. It's compulsively rewatchable.)
The only thing I did today that qualifies as commemorating the holiday was attending a parade with a good friend of mine. He and I have known each other for going on 30 years. We worked together at a local bookstore back then. Nowadays, every July 4th, we usually attend the local parade and catch up on each other's lives. Due to COVID, we haven't done this recently. The parade was cancelled two years ago. One year ago, my friend was in Chicago with his wife, I believe.
So, today, he and I sat and watched the usual array of motorcycles, high school bands, dump trucks, and campaigning politicians. A horse-drawn wagon clopped by, and, surprisingly, the horses did not lift their tales in front of us. (I seem to be jinxed by animals with loose bowels when I attend parades.) It was a wonderful couple hours spent with a person I care deeply about. We commiserated about the sad state of the Supreme Court and the country in general, as two aging progressives are wont to do when they get together.
In the evening, my family and I had a barbecue with my sister. Hot dogs, bratwurst, homemade mac and cheese, and watermelon. Then we all watched an episode of Stranger Things. It was a lovely way to end the holiday weekend.
As I sit typing this post, I can hear some neighbors setting off fireworks. It's raining, so I'm sure the rockets aren't exactly lighting up the sky. It's just loud enough to make my puppy moan and shift in her crate.
That's a pretty good metaphor to end the final post of this strange Independence Day weekend where independence and freedom need to be put on the endangered species list. Right next to the black-footed ferret and Bornean orangutan. We're all sort of shifting in our crates uncomfortably, listening to the distant explosions, wondering what's coming.
Even though Saint Marty didn't see any this weekend, there's a lot of horseshit going around.
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