Contemplating a Fishing Rod

Every story needs a good setting. This story takes place in our neighborhood. While my Chris and precious Parker were in Bratislava for a basketball tournament today, Libby, Addison and I took a bike ride. Now, push aside your concept of what that might look like in your corner of the world. In my corner, it's dodging traffic, other bikers, pedestrians, dogs, street protesters and the occational scooter. In fact, just take a gander at these photos that Addison took(yes, she snapped them while on her bike)to jump-start your imagination:

Sweet Libby and I got too pooped to peddle and had to push our bikes up the first hill just a few blocks from our house.


We passed the Votiv Kirche as we rode through Sigmond Frued Park.


This impressive structure is Heldenplatz. This was the very site in which Hitler gave his Anschluss address to Austria in 1938.


Addison needed to pass off the camera, so we made the switch across from the Vienna Opera House.


I'm not sure if you can tell from this photo, but we ran into a legal demonstration. We are still not sure what the protesters where shouting and protesting. However, the police were out in full force!


After riding for a while, and quite frankly being a bit stressed out by the traffic, people, protestors etc ... we sat by the Donau Kanal. They have fabulous street art work spray painted on the walls. We took the opportunity to play "Look at me! I'm in a photo shoot with my really serious facial expressions" and took the following photos!



However, the best part of the day ... and the inspiration for this blog ... was the fishermen. These guys fascinated me! First of all, today was one of the nicest, sunniest days we've had this "Spring". That means that out of the 1.8 million residents in Vienna, about 1.2 million were out and about! Where we live, there are plenty of biking and walking trails aligning themselves with the Donau Kanal. For city dwellers, we pack the park in an effort to get in touch with the great outdoors. Private it is not. However, it's outside and there is sun and air and the experience makes you feel you have achieved some level of nature, despite the constant rumble of traffic and subways!

Another thing about my city, people are polished. They are well put together. If they jog, they wear proper jogging attire. If they bike for sport, they wear ... you guessed it ... proper biking attire. If they are strolling with their infants, they push the proper stroller and have the proper stroller gadgets. No one stands out, because everyone confirms to what is "proper" for the activity.

That's why my little fishermen fascinated me. They stood out. In an ocean of proper people engaging in proper pasttimes, they were ... fishing.


They came with fishing poles, a radio, bunches of bait, a little grill to warm up coffee, a net, and a hammer thing ... which to our horror ... Mr. Fisherman used to hit the head of the fish he caught to put him out of his misery ... and added much to ours (misery that is!). Libby was put out by his "cruelty". Her words were: "Now whenever I see a fisherman, I'm going to think of a bad person." I, trying to correct her sterotype, offer the suggestion that fishermen aren't bad. They simply catch fish. She then continues her argument by saying, "Why anyone would want to kill a fish like that ... one of God's creations ... is beyond me." End of discussion.



Now, while I am easily amused ... the hitting over the head of sad fish was not the fascinating part. The fascinating part were the onlookers!


At first it was just this scooter Man that began to take an interest in Mr. Fisherman. Then, when it became apparent that Mr. Fisherman was gonna reel in a big one ... others gathered. At one point, joggers had to jog off the trail because so many bystanders had stopped to pay homage to Mr. Fisherman and his plight.

Mr. Fisherman was so out of the normal. He didn't have all the right stuff ... nor the proper equipment. Yet, he entertained the masses today.

He didn't have a gimic. He didn't have a shtick. He had no song and dance. He was simply taking advantage of the nice sunny day like everyone else. He was doing something he obviously enjoyed. He didn't care if he measured up the unwritten rules around him. He was himself, casting all cares and need to conform out the proverbial window.

Engage with me your own imagination and sense of wonder. What would that look like for you? Interesting question ... one I think I'll ponder a while. Makes you think. What kind of impact could I make ... if I didn't care how I made the impact ... I just got out there ... enjoyed what I do and did what I was meant to do. Hmmm ... let the wheels start spinning and the modern day parable unwrap in your own story.

In the meantime, I think I may go out and buy myself a fishing rod.