What is happening, dear readers? I am happy to be back in the saddle today, blogging to you loud and clear over the telecom grid. How did you make out in my absence yesterday? Did you get a load of my grandniece Tricia’s article about her upcoming birthday celebration? It’s great to see her so excited for it. Her writing style is becoming so flowery (the sign of a good writer) that it’s almost impenetrable, almost like Beatrix Potter. Why, it took all my energy just to get through the first paragraph, what with all those abbreviations and emotioncons! Tricia, you must be trying to exhaust your poor great-uncle! But I’m sure that if you keep going at this rate, you’ll become the voice of your generation in no time at all.
As for my generation, I spent yesterday voyaging to the Bass Professional Shop out in Harrisburg. I stopped and picked up my grandson Max (or, as he refers to himself, “M-Fixie”) at his apartment in the city and we were on our way. Max is getting ready to take a business trip to California, and I wanted to get him some supplies. It was quite a long drive to the Bass Professional Shop, and I joked with Max that he’d better get used to long trips in the car if he’s planning to drive all the way to California!
When we got to the shop, Max picked out a beautiful tent. I would have let him use the one we took camping a few weeks ago, except that one wouldn’t be big enough to house himself, all of his supplies, and his traveling partner C. J. (Tricia’s friend). So he selected the family model which sleeps 8 to 10, a wise decision in my book. He also picked out a flannel clothing wardrobe and some jerkied meats, just like the pioneers ate. That’s the best kind of meat to take traveling because it won’t spoil on you. And it’s pure energy because there’s no water in it. He also got a bottle of some kind of meat marinade, and some other food. I even talked Max into a rod and reel so he could catch his own fish on his trip. There’s something to be said for self-sufficiency.
I will say that, in my opinion, there were too many hippies at the Bass Professional Shop for my taste. You know the sort: Long hair, scuffed-up hiking boots, camouflage pants, an overly-relaxed expression. They were clearly not bass professionals, so I don’t know why they were there in the first place. But I just ignored them and did not let them ruin our visit. I didn’t see any birdseed there for myself, but I did pick up a Bass Professional Shop cap just like I’ve seen everyone else wearing. Let it not be said that The Codger isn’t up-to-date on the latest styles.
Until next time!