Soon it will be time to gear up for the garden season again.  The tomatoes will start in the window around March 1, peppers then, too.  But the issue for the garden itself is that it needs some shit.  Green, smelly poop.  Merde.  So as soon as we can work the area, the kaka gets laid down.  Then, peas, carrots, salad, potatoes, and new grapes to replace the ones that didn’t take last spring.   Another shrub to hide the trashy neighbors and we’re off.  Flo says I am going to Spain to fish with her brother this summer but I am having doubts.  Maybe too much cash to go, but it’s Paris for a week afterward.  How can I pass that up?

I woke up yesterday to a snowstorm that eventually had me shoveling close to eight inches of the shit from the driveway.  Cursing the wet, heavy snow, I had time to think what had transpired in the past 24 hours and how it might unfold.

First, I must say I am THRILLED that Barack Obama will be our next American President.  After 8 years of the intolerance and arrogance King George’s rule, it was time for a change.  I listened to Barack give his victory speech and I felt proud to be American.  The last time I felt that was in the early days after September 11, and the feeling quickly faded as Bush shoved his Iraq invasion down the throat of the world less than 18 months later.  I walked the streets of Paris the day after the 2004 election, feeling like I had just been punched in the gut.  The girl at the cafe who recognized me as American noticed my depair, comped me a cup of warmth, smiled and offered her condolences.  I told her I was worried for the future of not only my nation, but that of the world.  Just having someone to listen to my thoughts on that day helped.  I knew I was not alone in my concern.  Yet, later that day, I was glared at on the Metro, refused service at a clothing store, and left Paris on my return flight wanting to crawl into a hole, all thanks to 50 million American voters who let fear rule their choice.  This time, the Republicans tried to use fear again:  fear of the unknown, inexperience, the fear of putting the first African-American into the highest office in the land.  Americans saw though it this time around and resoundlingly moved past the fear and intolerance to the prospect of a brighter future after we climb out of the hole we’re in now.

So, as the shovel moved the snow, I quietly hoped that we can get IT back.  What is IT?  IT is intangible, a confidence that WE can do anything we set out to accomplish.  Well folks, look around.  Today, the right wingers are licking their wounds, bashing Obama before the man even has the chance to take the oath of office.  Hate Radio hosts Hannity/Limbaugh/etc will not stop until Barack is gone.  But the reality of IT is that he is now our chosen leader, and IT matters not if we are red or blue, R or D, black or white.  There is a big task ahead of us to come together and heal our country.  Obama’s election is historic on many fronts, but what stands out to me is how divided people were during the campaign.  I heard people claiming that terrorists will attack the second Obama took office, chaos will break out, the Muslim agenda will be advanced, and every other brand of vitrol you can think of.  I heard folks claiming that McCain was going to attack Iran, causing a worldwide crisis of unimaginable magnitude.  And the rhetoric got pretty nasty in the last days before November 4.  Both sides were guilty.  But now, we each have the reposibility to aid in the healing process, to extend an olive branch to the other side, to come together as AMERICANS instead of left/right, red/blue, R/D, black/white.  We are all in the same boat and IT is in danger of sinking if we don’t all pitch in to help keep IT afloat.  Together we stand, divided we fall.  Grab a bucket, and let’s get IT back on top of the water, strong and proud.

Months ago, I compared American society and our apathy to a frog who found himself in a pot of boiling water. He got into the pot when the water was cool and lived until the pot boiled. When he tried to get in after the water was hot, he revolted. Well, Mr. Frog is back from the dead, and he now weighs 700 billion pounds.

As I watch the US economy and our retirement savings wilt on the vine, like fruit long neglected, I have to wonder. How in the hell did we let this happen? Was the water soooo comfortable that we just sat back with our cocktails and enjoyed the bubbles? Or were we distracted from the increase in temperature? If so, what distracted us? And just why won’t that frog get back in the hot tub with us?

Now, President Bush has called for swift action to save Wall Street from total collapse. $700 BILLION worth of swift action. We need to get this done now. If not, our entire future is in dire straits. You should be afraid, and trust us to protect you. Sound familiar? We must attack Iraq now or Saddam Hussein will blow us up with a nucular (sic) bomb. And we all know how that one has worked out.

Last week, the Bush administration presented a three-page “summary” of action to the House Finance Committee as a solution to this crisis. Three pages, total. What the FUCK? I could write three pages on how to save the economy and I flunked out of business school. And we sit there and watch, realizing that there is nothing we can do.

I believe we were distracted by record gains in the market, everyone making money like mad, and not a rule in sight. Hey, as long as everyone gets rich, why do we need rules? Pass the chips. You can have that $600K McMansion for $599 a month.[*] Sure gas is expensive, but you can get a $100K tax break if you buy a Hummer! [†] War in Iraq? What war? Obama or McCain? (That’s another story altogether) Add to that our obsession with “talent” competitions on TV and you’ve got a recipe for Shit On A Plate. We were given the old switcheroo and didn’t even notice.

So, what do we do now?

Well, for beginners, I suggest we become much more engaged in the process. Start by voting. Talk to your neighbors. Contact and start a dialogue with your elected officials, from the city council, to state legislators, to US senators and representatives, to the president. Ask hard questions. Write letters to the editor. Become part of the process instead of a dolt on the sidelines. Organize a rally to support your ideas. No one ever said it would be easy.

We’re in deep shit. And now, the 700 billion pound frog is watching the people in the hot tub, wondering why they stay in there as the water gets hotter and hotter.

Any man can handle adversity, but to see his true character, give him power.” -Abraham Lincoln

I transitioned from child to teenager during the 1970s. The television, music, and history of that decade are ingrained in my mind like a 10 year movie. It is amazing to me sometimes, as a man in my forties, to see how often history repeats itself with an event or media from the 70s.

This week, Utah State Representative Mark Walker (R-Sandy) resigned to shield his family from the fallout of an ethics hearing that might have become quite revealing to the business-as-usual in the Utah legislature. He had been accused of offering a bribe in exchange for his primary election opponent dropping out of the race for Utah State Treasurer. Rather than admit his mistake outright, and pay the consequences for his actions, Walker sacrificed himself and may have saved some of his House colleagues from being internally investigated. But his willing exit comes off more as an admittance of his guilt, and the question of impropriety within the Legislature in this case will not be answered. With Republicans nationwide suddenly realizing that the gig is up, the phrase “house of cards” comes to mind. And with it, the image of a big clumsy dog from television of the 70s.

The Brady Bunch television program was in its heyday during the 1970s. The campy show played in the afternoons and I saw an episode or two on rainy days. I remember the vase broken when the boys were playing ball in the house against the wishes of Carol, the trip to the Grand Canyon when Bobby and Cindy got lost, and many more of the Brady family adventures. Most every episode had a message to families; indoor baseball is not advisable, don’t wander off when camping, and many common sense things that we mostly take for granted. With a large family, sharing was a common theme. In one episode of sharing, the family had been saving stamps to exchange for a product, a common part of the 70s. I remember saving S&H Green Stamps with my mother. I think she redeemed them for a jewelry box or something. Maybe I got a toy. The Brady girls wanted a sewing machine, and the boys were eyeing a canoe. Naturally, the conflict needed to be resolved, and a contest of skill would decide the winner. Bob and Carol decided to have the kids build a house of cards and the side that toppled the house would lose. The house started innocently enough, and through the magic of television, the first level was done in mere seconds. As the house grew, the tension followed. Greg’s puffy shirtsleeve and Jan’s loose bracelet proved to be pitfalls that were avoided, but no one expected the house to be flattened by the family dog. Cindy saw Tiger, called him to her, and he jumped on Bobby and pushed him into the house, which came crashing down. Girls win. They go to the stamp redemption center and it’s closed. But after thinking about it and with a few carefully dropped hints from Carol, the girls realize that Tiger is the real reason they won and decide to share the stamps with the boys and that’s the way it worked in Brady-land. Every day ended happily.

A house of cards is one of the most delicate structures known to man. Even a delicate breeze or slight shift in its base can flatten the house completely. For the past eight years, even back to 1994 when the GOP took control of Congress, we have experienced the building of our own house of cards with the prosperity of the 90s allowing the house to be built with fewer regulations for business, tax incentives for corporations to expand at a breakneck pace, and WalMarts in nearly every county of America (and no more than five miles apart in most metropolitan areas). The Republicans feel that regulation is a hindrance to the economy, stifling businesses from making piles of cash and allowing that cash to trickle back in through employee salaries and the purchase of everyday items. The GOP controlled congress would have deregulated everything until money was flowing in the gutters of America, but there was a Democrat in the White House. Until Clinton left office, there was a check on that power of deregulation. Then along came Bush and the GOP rejoiced. Bush inherited a booming economy, a trillion-dollar budget surplus, and the first real level for the house of cards was in place. Regulations? What regulations?

When Bush took office after the debacle of 2000, VP Dick Cheney held a secret energy summit in 2001, and the second floor of the house began to take shape. With the GOP clearly making the rules, they built it so fast no one even knew it was done. Then 9/11 happened and the GOP-led government continued construction. We went to war without much discussion, revenge was the reason in Afghanistan. Then without Osama bin Laden’s scalp on a pole, they went after Saddam, and his Iraqi oil.

Jan, watch that bracelet.

Since 2003, the American economy has yet to stabilize, air travel is a nightmare and the airlines are struggling, energy prices are skyrocketing, the US dollar is tanking, gas is approaching a price tripling, sub-prime mortgages are causing many people to lose their homes, and we are still killing for something in Iraq to the tune of $20 million per day. Democrats won a majority of Congress in 2006, but seem to be content to let the GOP actions and policies in place knock the card house down. Everyone knew they were in the house, but no one expected the game to end like that. Now they’re crying foul on The Dog (D).

People I have talked to are fed up with all of that and more, and most seem to point their fingers at Bush and the GOP. But, then one must wonder why the Democratic congress is sitting on its hands. They seem to be willing to watch the agony in slow motion, waiting for the last card to fall in November and get that sewing machine. With their man Obama in office, and a majority in Congress, the Dems can act without threat of veto, perhaps reversing some of the GOP policy shift back in their favor. Hope trumps acting in the present. Some think the sun will suddenly shine again. For the moment, the collapse has more allure than trying to stop it.

In Utah, where the economy is slightly better than the US average, the GOP holds a 70% majority in the legislature. They do much of their actual work in caucus behind closed doors, always seeming to favor roads and development over classrooms and social programs. The Legislative Ethics Committee is made up of legislators rather than an independent council. They protect their own fiercely and do not offer much in support to passing bills from the minority. That type of arrogance, lack of transparency, and conceit is beginning to wear thin on many voters as was evident in the Republican 3rd District race won by a young, fresh face, and the state treasurer’s primary election. After losing his bid for treasurer, Mark Walker was a pawn sacrificed to protect a bigger player. It will be interesting to see if the criminal charges he could face expose that guarded piece. My money says it’s Greg Curtis (R-Sandy), the Majority Leader in the Utah House of Representatives. He has a Guzzlegate past. And he’s up for re-election. Reputation and Motive.

The whole thing reminds me of Saturday morning cartoons and Scooby Doo.   In every episode of that one, someone was being haunted by a “ghost” that scared the locals into submission until Scooby and the gang showed up and solved the mystery. The Republicans probably think they would have gotten away with it, if it weren’t for those blasted kids. Aah, the 70s…

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight.

Damn, that was a big fish. My head shakes in disgust as I once again realize that I had hooked THE fish of the past four days of bug tossing on the Henry’s Fork. I’d like to again have that decision to raise the rod tip without loosening the reel drag a bit. Mr. Trout snapped the 4x, 6.5 lb test like it was a loose thread. Smiling, I realize a lesson was learned, one I forget too often while fishing for trout in Utah. Hit me again, Jack.

My head leans back for a look at the twilight sky, thin clouds glow red in the west. The sunsets here are rarely plain. I have camped alone for the past three nights, comfortable except for the mosquitoes. There has been no moon at night, so I have retired early. Tonight, there is a large group of Japanese camped behind me and there seems to be a jovial mood among them. An early night is out of the question. There is one star high in the east, so I make a wish. Please let me get a good night of sleep. I need to fish early and drive home safely tomorrow afternoon.

The Japanese neighbors begin to make a series of trips to their vehicles, one strolling by with an armload of items about every three seconds. This will go one well into the night. Bizarre. Realizing that I am truly screwed for sleep, I decide to medicate myself and enjoy the entire evening, the parade of car-camping Japanese, and have a look at the night sky. My head tilts back once again and there are more points of light in the sky. The faint Big Dipper confirms my northern suspicions, and I stoke the juniper campfire.

If I had only lightened the drag earlier, but sometimes that damn reel is touchy and if it gets too loose, things get not good quickly. That rainbow would be in my cooler now. All 6.5 plus pounds of his slimy scaled ass. I shake my head and half heartedly laugh off the loss in the Battle of Henry’s Fork. I’ll remember that one for sure. Less drag, let him run, get him in the net.

By this time, the sky is almost completely darkened, just a glow of twilight in the west. The big stars are out, the Milky Way begins to show, and the Japanese continue their portages. The past three days have been filled with time to reflect, regain some sense of direction, and for the most part, I am unchanged. Tonight, the sky is cleared out for the first time. Must see camping TV. Every time I look up, I see more stars.

The plan was to get to the Green yesterday, set up camp and fish the river below Little Hole until Saturday night.  But, the weather gods threw a wrench into that one.  Dutch John had snow and camping in a snowstorm is never fun, but more tolerable if you’re not in a tent.  So I stayed home, planning to get out for three days tomorrow, but not to the Green.  The cicadas are shut down, which could be good, so maybe I’ll make a trip to the lakes near Vernal and go after bass.  Who knows…

How many more days?

The light at the end of the tunnel can now be seen.

After seven plus years of Bush and the enormous amount of pain his presidency has created worldwide, the world stands ready for a leader of the US who can actually lead. Yesterday, Barack Obama became the Democratic nominee for President and I am fully behind him. I just hope he does not screw it up by picking Hillary Clinton as a running mate. His campaign theme of “Change We Can Believe In” seems to resonate among the young people in this nation and they are energized. Change is sorely needed as we enter the next phase of US politics, since the last seven years have been the most divisive, bitter, dark years I can remember. After living through Reagan and GHWB, I recall Bill Clinton representing a new page and he won by a landslide in ‘92. After eight years, he needed to go. Too much scandal, questions, and stains on dresses. When Gore failed to grow balls enough to stop GWB from stealing 2000, I knew we were in for a long stretch. I think we have reached the point of “one beer too many” with Dubya the Decider and as this campaign continues, Obama has a great challenge ahead. He must restore the confidence of not only the American people in the office of the President, but that of the world as well. He must patch up a divided nation. He must stop that fucking war in Iraq. A great big shitty mess has been left for the next president to clean up. Change is not only wanted, it is needed. John McCain, while a fine man himself, represents everything that Bush is. He wants to continue the war, continue refraining from dialog with our enemies, continue tax cuts for the wealthy, blah, blah, blah fucking blah. He claims to represent change but his voice rings hollow to many.

Obama is the man. He is bright, articulate, and willing to listen to our friends as well as our enemies. In this political climate, listening is much more important than speaking. We need to find out why we are despised by a great percentage of the world, and make changes to reverse that trend. America needs a man with the ability to consider two points of view and lead us down the path less violent, less arrogant, and less greedy. We need to learn to conserve and understand why it is vital to our future. I could go on.

America needs change. Let the revolution begin this November.

Hi friends and family! Thanks for taking the time to visit my site. If all goes as I plan, this will be a place where you can read a bit about my adventures on the river, check out some photos, and find a couple of good links now and again. Please come back often and comment about anything I post here.

The name “Les Mouches” means “the flies” in French, as it has become a second language for me. Occasionally, I will post in French for my friends and family who live in the land of croissants and Burgundy wine. C’est la vie…

Fly fishing has become an obsession of mine and I relish in every moment I get to spend on or near rivers. Moving water fascinates me and it seems like I always look at water and wonder what lives in it. As a very young boy, my parents took me on a drive through the Uinta mountains of Utah and we stopped at Mirror Lake. Apparently, I kept telling my dad I wanted to “fish it” over and over to the point of annoyance. I had never seen nor participated in fishing before that, so it must be ingrained as part of my genetic makeup. Since then, I have had the opportunity to fish all over the western US, the Pacific Ocean, and several locations in France. I am a fisherman for life, deeply hooked, if you will kindly accept the pun.

This blog will vary in topic, from the obvious fishing stories, to pointed opinions on politics, religion, the environment, popular culture, and photos essays. Occasionally, I will make announcements. Please leave a comment, as I will not censor them and hope to gain something from your contributions. Dialogue is important.

Once again, thanks for visiting. Now, I gotta get on the river. The trout are rising.