State of a Fat Guy

I sit at this computer like a loaded gun with no target. Emotion without thought.  I need an adventure, I think. I need fresh substance. Fiction for the sake of fiction is fine but I need a spark, something real, some little piece like the grain of sand at the end of the movie The Never Ending Story. With that one little grain Bastian was able to rebuild the entirety of Fantastica. Shit, I just want to write about fishing.

But before I can begin, there is something else that I need to get out of the way. Something many of you already know, but I will not feel right until officially brought to light here.  I am almost afraid to say it, and that's silly because I know it was never about being overweight. Not really, anyways. Was it?

It was about an attitude. An unconventional viewpoint about a sport that seemed somewhat participant-pigeonholed. It was not about ignoring the rules as much as denying their existence. Being silly. Spouting nonsense. Living and fishing and wrapping things in bacon and kicking ass all over the place. And it is still about that.

But over the last year and a half I have, on purpose, lost a little more than one hundred pounds and have been told I no longer have the required mass to be classified as a fat guy. (At least by standard American society standards, I suppose)

What does this mean?

This year I am going to turn 30, and I am happy to say that now more than ever I feel I have the capacity to kick record amounts of ass. Which is pretty cool.

People ask me what I am going to do in regards to this site, being that I apparently don't seem to fit the criteria any longer. I think this is simultaneously silly and a good question. It's not like I am some skinny fucker now, all bones and floppy skin. I still exist in the orange slice of fatness which falls above the recommended numbers on the doctor's height vs. weight chart, I still wrap things in bacon, drink beer, go outside with fly rods in search of stories-which I will be doing more than ever this coming year. Is that enough? Have I now somehow excluded myself and fall outside some imaginary guidelines apparently set by my former self? Like the height ruler at the end of the line for the roller coaster, but a horizontal version?-you must be this fat to post-and I step up to the ticket taker sticking out my gut as far as I can, hoping I will make the cut and be allowed on the ride while at the same time working to remove that same access-granting feature? That is some silly shit.

It's not like if April Vokey decided that she had had enough with being a woman and decided to have a sex change and become a dude... She probably couldn't keep writing at FlyGal, right? That would be weird. Probably drive the hits through the roof, though. Anyways I hope you can see my point through the mental image of Ms. Vokey with man-parts. Sorry for that. Yup, really sorry. You can stop thinking about it now. Seriously. Stop.

But really, what now? I don't know.

I think the real question is do I want to continue here? I know I don't want to stop writing and sharing photography. I do know that. Maybe it is time to step up both games. Maybe it is time to start pushing for some more published work. Quality not quantity. Maybe I should quit worrying about it and stop being such a pussy. I have never been good at change.

Matt Dunn Photo

I am going back to Michigan on Sunday. Getting picked up from Grand Rapids by Mr. Mortensen. Going to go think about things and wiggle my man-parts in the Pere Marquette with Kevin Morlock for a week, try not to be too cold, maybe catch a steelhead on the swing if I am lucky.

I have an excitement about this trip, an expectation of some good thing on the horizon that I am moving toward but can't quite see yet. Like holding a grain of sand that contains the potential of the world. I do wish that Matt Dunn was still in Michigan, though. Maybe we could have tracked down those dirty cake-fibbers and brought them to moist, chocolaty justice. Could have happened.

-Alex who will always be living large in some form.

I'm too fat and the pond is too far away...

When you get too old and fat to enjoy the things you did all day every day when you were 14, Shoot it.

3 friends of mine and I decided to do some target practice.. Let me start sooner. Friday morning, I looked in my shed and found my old skateboard. Yeah I tried to ride it, tried. Ed, JJ, Larry, and I were going shooting later in the afternoon, in disgust from stepping on my skateboard and falling on my ass, it ended up in the target box.

From my 7mm. Magnum, 12 gauge shot gun, 30-06 rifle, and .380 Micro Eagle, we took care of this old friend, as well as a bunch of other shit. We could have done more damage, but we had plenty of other shit to shoot.

Kyle, Too fat to Sk8

Just like Alex, I too can be a winner

My post to Field and Stream, Has won me a "Little Red Fly Fishing Book" due to my non-fear of self exposure!

And this may hurt your eyes.

-Kyle

hey guess what

Almost a month ago she said..... YES
Kyle- I don't know what is wrong with her, but I am happy

I feel much better about myself

Stick to fishing,

Put down the snack cake,

Eat a salad every now and then,

Don't be a dumb ass.

Dropping Off Flat Tops

Driving north on I-10 in Alex's truck, dropping off some kitchen gear that was borrowed:

Kyle- Damn it's starting to get chilly, If we go on winter trips in the mountains and such it might be snowing, I think I better hit goodwill and other thrift stores to get some warm clothes.

Alex- Dude, you lived in Colorado for 2 years and spent time in the bone chilling winters, what happened to your warm clothes from Colorado?

Kyle- I got fat.......er

Updating ourselves

Found a jar of taxidermy eyes sitting on a dusty shelf in my studio... awesome.

Myself, Aaron and Kyle, respectively.

Want to look like a pro? Lose some weight fat boy.

I like my fishing shirts to be made of lightweight, breathable, water repellent material with neatly zippered pockets in all the right places… but I also would like it not to pop a button if I eat that extra peanut butter powerbar and forget to suck-it-in when crawling out of the boat.

I like my fishing pants to dry quickly and magically transform into shorts in a zip, but “a partial stretch waist for exceptional fit and comfort” does me no good if the only time it is ever partially stretched is when it’s folded in my dresser drawer.

Dickies gives the fat man some love.... Their double knee work pant is available up to a 60-inch waist because they understand that even the fattest of America’s work force should be able to do so in comfort and style, and still have room to go to the bar after work and eat nachos and drink two or three or ten beers.

While fishing might not fall into the same category of labor as rotating tires or fixing milf’s leaky sinks, it still requires a level of comfort for movement and dexterity - for being able to breathe while tying the laces of your wading boots.

Some good manufacturers run small so I don’t mind paying a fat tax*, I just want to have the sizes available. And I know that there is a more-to-love fly fishing fringe watching from the shore wondering when their pants will dry as fast as the undernourished Patagonia advertisement standing next to them.

-Alex who knows it ain’t pretty when one combines gluttony and vanity.

*Fat Tax is the extra $3-$10 you have to pay for sixes over XXL, and has more do to with punishing you for not working out than charging for the extra material.

I always knew he was a stinky bastard.

Kyle on chum:

Click the image, and go tell the Chum Nation how much Kyle kicks-ass.

Fat Guys, fishbeer and some yeast poop in CO

I knew it would happen sooner or later, and that it would be sweet. I have always praised the combination and understood that there is a love-love relationship between being outdoors and enjoying a few oat sodas, but I think few men have taken it to the level of Matt Dunn, the mastermind behind Fishbeer.com, who just happened to occupy the same space and time with a few fat guys last weekend, (including Michael Gracie, the self-proclaimed 3/4 fat guy).

The atmosphere was light, and the 20oz draughts were cold at Govnr's Park as the conversation fluttered around fishing, midgets (as it will often do in the presence of Kyle) and beer. Matt spoke about the class that he taught in Indiana The Art and Science of Beer: History, Technology, and Culture and the disappointment of frat boys who realize too late that "beer bong dynamics" is not covered in the course. He enlightened us uneducated beer-drinkers that in the past men, women and children alike drank beer daily, and I have learned by perusing one of his online power-point lectures that the first recorded recipe is for brewing beer. Awesome.

It does not take long to understand that Matt knows a lot about beer and has a great passion about the subject - and I don't mean like your buddy who brewed it once in his kitchen and feels smart in front of the ladies when talking about things like "mouthfeel," "palate," and "nose." Matt is a pro, and was more than happy to do a little R&D with some new friends in Denver.

After a few rounds, some tasty drinks and food the afternoon came to an end, and we had to depart. Matt will be running around Colorado for a few more weeks, and I believe he has plans to camp and do some hot-nighttime-mouse-on-river action with Gracie tomorrow. Keep an eye out on Gracie's site for that post, as I threw him some hot tips for night photography that I hope will pay off with some full-moon eye candy.

Matt, it was a pleasure, and you are welcome down here is AZ anytime. The fishing may not be as good as CO, but the drinking is first-rate.

-Alex who should stay behind the camera.

Oh lord is this Armageddon?

So yes Alex will be out here before long, With MG and Kyle to drink till the day is done we have only hit the base of destruction! Fish have no chance, well Alex has no chance! Just kidding!!!! So we all know the world (at least Colorado) has seen its last days, why can't Aaron come up as well?