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Thursday, August 17, 2006 

Crazy Ron

I don’t get to go fishing often. When I do I have a good time.
I don’t much care for the high speed 65 mph boat fishing, I prefer to fish from a small craft of questionable origin, but my favorite fishing is wade fishing.
The following story is on in which I fish with my Cousin Tommy, wading bull crick I am 16 years old at the time.

Tommy is my first cousin. His mom is my Aunt Helen, I loved Aunt Helen She was sweet woman who always had milk and cookies for me. She married a lunatic named Ron. Ron loved a practical joke, but he was loud and crazy. I was always afraid of him. He left you feeling like he was either going to explode or go nuts at any moment. His face was always red and his hair stuck straight up on his head like a flat top haircut gone bad. He had Tattoos, at this time in the south only sailors and crazy nuts had tattoos. He had one of a naked woman on his left bicep; he could make her dance by flexing. It was weird.

Tommy loves to fish, even more that I do. He calls me up wanting to fish bull creek. We refer to it as Bull Crick. It meanders through several cow pastures. To a cow the entire world is a bathroom. When a creek is exposed to cows it becomes a crick. But this particular crick went through my Cousins fathers farm and it only had one cow in the fence, rather one bull. It was a Braham bull the big kind that snorts and paws the ground, then chases you to the fence where you either jump over or crawl under, dependent upon how close the bull is following.
Tommy said the bull was in another pasture this day and we would be safe.

We begin fishing. For us the fishing trip officially begins when I show up at Tommy’s house at 6:00 am. He is asleep. I don’t want to wake up his dad so I bang on Tommy’s window. I misjudged and bang on his dads window by mistake. The following is what I heard from inside the house.

Uncle Ron Oh Bleep someone is outside the damn house banging on the window. My only day to sleep in and someone is banging on my window. Helen get the gun.

Aunt Helen Ron shut up and put on some pants, that’s just Bo. He is going fishing with Tommy.

Uncle Ron lets shoot him anyway. I don’t know why your sister’s kid thinks he can bang on my window at 6:30 in the damn morning. crazy Snagleys

Tommy don’t shoot him its just Bo. Run Bo he’s got his gun.

Bo DON’T SHOOT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHH

This is a true account of the conversation. I did not know but they all woke up when I drove up. My 1971 Chevy nova had a hole in the muffler about the size of a grapefruit, the gift of a rock on a previous outing. They planned the entire exchange.

I did not know this and ran to beat hell back to the car. I jumped in and tore out of there spewing gravel all over their house, I left a streak of rubber about 100 feet long on the road in front of their place.
I looked back in my mirror to see Tommy looking confused and Uncle Ron in his white grippy underwear with a gun firing shots into the air.

Latter after Aunt Helen called mom and apologized and Uncle Ron got finished laughing Tommy and I did managed to go fishing but that is a story for another day.

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