THE FISHERMAN'S WATERLESS WIFE

You've heard the old saying about the doctor's kids never getting medical attention and the cobbler's family going shoeless. Let me tell you that it's pretty much the same with a walleye fisherman--his wife never gets a boat ride.

On Monday, after much whining on my part (yes, I know how to whine), Tom suggested that we go fishing on Lake Miltona on Monday evening. However, the wind was blowing with gale force (23 mph with gusts to 33 mph), so the trip was scrapped. On Tuesday, the wind was still too gusty to fish on Lake Miltona where the fish are reportedly biting. But after I mentioned several times that both the summer and I were not getting any younger, we went to Plan B: Lake Ida.

When I say Tom took me fishing, I use the term "fishing" very loosely. I never catch anything. So fishing for me mostly consists of sitting in my end of the boat, holding a rod in my hand, admiring the scenery. Even my leech at the end of my hook senses that I'm really not expecting to catch anything as it dozes half-heartedly next to my spinner.

Every once in awhile, Tom decided to move to another spot on the lake where the fish also were not biting (there is always hope). As he whipped the boat into motion and sped across the lake to a secret sunken island or some other favorite spot, I sat smiling like a dog with its head out the pickup truck window, glorying in the wind, the water, and the sensation.

I know why people like to go fishing. When I'm out on Lake Ida at sunset, there is no economic recession, no global warming, no town hall meetings arguing health care reform, no bills to pay, no worries about aging parents. There's nothing but peace and tranquility. We saw 26 loons and a sunset that would knock your socks off.

Tom would rather catch fish, so I suppose our empty live well last night was another confirmation that a guy just shouldn't take his wife out fishing with him unless she's really committed to catching fish. However, I can still close my eyes and see that beautiful sunset and hear the sounds of those loons across the water. And for three hours, it didn't matter if Bret Favre signed with the Vikings or if Barak Obama was compromising with the Republicans on health care or if Brittany Spears lost 20 pounds in 4 weeks. It's called "Lake Ida Therapy," and it's cheaper than a psychiatrist.