On my birthday, January 3rd of 2011, I published a long autobiographical blog entitled "What Do I Want From This Life?" 41st Birthday Lament. This was the final paragraph:
"What do I want from this life?"
I want to love the Lord God with all my mind, heart, soul, and strength. But with what I've been through right now, I just can't seem to find much love. My mind seems dull, my heart is cold, my soul is in the wilderness, and my strength has failed me.
Not much changed in my life until December 23rd, 2011, when I had a stroke in the middle of the night. When my Dad found me. I was semi-conscious, couldn't move the right side of my body, couldn't speak, and was seriously cognitively impaired. I was fortunate in that my facilities began coming back to me fairly quickly. I was out of the hospital in less than a week and, after a short stay in a nursing home/rehab facility, was back home by my 42nd birthday. I had a few months of physical and cognitive therapy. I recovered better physically than cognitively or emotionally. I am less confident and more withdrawn.
But with what I've been through right now, I just can't seem to find much love. My mind seems dull, my heart is cold, my soul is in the wilderness, and my strength has failed me.
The problems I outlined in these sentences have only magnified post-stroke. It's been almost four years since, and I am still in a kind of shock.
Even still, I believe God has a great love for me even though I really just don't understand it.
I guess you could say God and I are not on speaking terms at this point in my life.
What do I want from this life?
For whatever reason, I decided not to publish this blog right away on the morning of 10/19/16. I decided to post.
Showing posts with label Essay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Essay. Show all posts
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Monday, January 03, 2011
"What do I want from this life?"- 41st Birthday Lament
Warning: This is a long autobiographical look at my life's ambitions and difficulties. Not particularly inspirational reading. I am not sure why I wrote it or why I am publishing it, but I think I should.
This year for Christmas, the blogger Fisherbabe was inspired to write a rather introspective post for the holidays. This particular paragraph really hit me:
This holiday season, it is my wish for all of you that you ask yourself the question, "What do I want from this life?"...and that you give yourself a truly honest answer. You may be surprised at what flows forth from one simple question.
For whatever reason, I feel compelled to write out an answer to the question for myself.
I read the question "What do I want from this life?" and started thinking about my answer. My first thought was that I don't want or expect much from this life, and that is just the way it is for me. However, I didn't stop thinking about the question with just that and pondered myself a little further.
What do I really want from this life? Then something from out of my past stuck out clearly in my mind's eye. What I really want from this life is to be used by God. Was not that what I really want?
While on a youth group mission trip to Puerto Rico in 1986, at the age of 16, on a clear starry night at the top of a small mountain, while all alone, I committed my life to the Lordship of Jesus Christ; I vowed to serve God for the rest of my life. And for the next few years, I prepared myself to do just that with vigorous immersion into Bible study, prayer, Christian community, and ministry. I went to Northwestern Bible College in St. Paul, MN, to study the Bible and Youth Ministry, which I thought was my career soul-mate/calling. I took my studies seriously and was a dedicated student. At this time, things were, for the most part, going very well in my life, and it seemed that my dreams were within reach and would all come true. I graduated with honors and immediately got the job I wanted with a company out of California that put on multi-media assembly programs in schools throughout the country. I thought this would be a fun job before I got into the business of a full-time church Youth Ministry.
The job was excellent, and one night before I went to sleep, I started thinking about a girl who went to Northwestern College. I didn't really know her well, but I found her quite attractive physically. On a whim, I wrote her a letter, not knowing if I would ever hear back. Sure enough, she did write back, and I came to find out that she also had admired me from afar. I was going to be in the Twin Cities in a couple of weeks, so I asked her out on a date, and she enthusiastically accepted.
October 10th finally came, and I took her out to eat at a place I loved, the Lido Restaurant, where I worked all four years of college. Within the first half hour of the conversation, I was hopelessly in love and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the woman I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with. I silently pledged to myself to do everything I could to make that happen. The date went exceptionally well, and we went out the next day as I would be leaving town, not to be back until Thanksgiving. While on the road, we wrote many letters back and forth, getting to know one another and often bearing our souls. Through the letters and phone calls, I was growing to love her more with every interaction. Thanksgiving time came, and I had to drive across Wisconsin in a nasty storm to get home, so I could see her again.
The day after Thanksgiving, I drove to Glenwood City, WI, to meet her family and go on our 3rd date. Things went very well, and that night under the stars, we kissed for the first time. And if it wasn't confirmed yet, I was now passionately in love with this girl. On the way home, I literally cried with joy for at least 15 minutes for having met someone so totally wonderful. Once again, for me, it was life on the road with a courtship of phone calls and letters. I was on top of the world; life had never been so good. Christmas break finally came, and I headed home where I would spend as much time as possible with her. We went out multiple times on day-long dates, either up with her family in WI or down in the Twin Cities.
On New Years' eve 1992, I drove to WI to pick her up to take her back to cities where we would spend the night together at my parents' house in Bloomington. On the long drive to Bloomington, we reflected back on the year; I think she asked me what the highlight of my year was. I told her it was graduating from college, which wasn't true. Meeting her was the biggest highlight. I asked her the question back, and she responded that meeting me was the highlight of her year. I was "over the moon," never had anyone told me something so wonderful. We held hands, and all was right with the world.
We brought in 1993 in each other's arms. We ended up falling asleep together, fully clothed people. I'm not having sex until I'm married. The following day we finished a book I had been reading her. She got pretty distraught as she shared with me the pain she and her family had gone through before her dad had come to Christ. He serially cheated on her mother. I comforted her the best I could, and we talked on a deeper level than we had ever before, and we had been plenty deep with each other before this point. My heart was now broken for her, and I knew more than ever there was no way I would ever want to live my life without her in it.
Things settled down, and eventually, we went downstairs and started making out again, fully clothed as always. During this time, I could not hold it in any longer, and I told her I loved her. She asked me if I was sure. I told her I was and we went back making out. Later on in the afternoon, I took her back to WI, and this would be the last time I would be able to see her until late May because my next job tour would be on the East Coast. Before she got out of the car, we prayed together, kissed one last time, and then she was gone.
1992 was the best year of my life; 1993 would be the worst.
Life on the road started out well as I basked in the glow of love. However, her trouble would soon rise as she began to struggle with the question of love. She wrote to me that she promised herself when she was young that she would never tell a guy she loved him until she was absolutely sure. She noted that she cared for me more than any guy she had ever met, but she couldn't yet say she knew me well enough to say she loved me. I wasn't bothered by this as all and was satisfied that she obviously cared deeply for me. I was in no rush for her to do anything as I was sure she would come around to the point where she could say she loved me in time. In a letter, she questioned how I could say I loved her, and I answered her back, trying to make her understand. My love for her was more than a feeling but a deep conviction within my mind, heart, and soul. My answers did not satisfy her, and one night in late February, I got a call, and she was in tears over this question. I don't remember what I told her, but apparently, it wasn't right, and soon she would grow distant, and her letters stopped coming. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached her by phone, and we agreed that she needed some space to work things out. The phone calls would stop, but I could still write her letters, though I shouldn't expect any back. I was obviously troubled by this but not too deep as I was confident this was a difficulty that could be overcome. I was confident it was God's will that we be together, and nothing could stop that, right? The next few months were tough, but I had a deep hope that things would work out when we could get together and talk things through face to face when my tour was over.
Another thing that happened during this time was that my dream Youth Ministry job, Jr. High Minister of Youth at Hope Presbyterian (my home church), had opened up, and I went through the interview process. The people involved in the search were familiar with me because we had worked closely together for several years when I was in college, volunteering and interning with this youth program. Much to my dismay, I didn't get the job. The significance of this would weigh on me much heavier later on down the line.
In addition to candidating for the Hope Youth Ministry position, I applied to be a Camp Counselor at Camp Shamineau near Motley, MN. To this point, my experience with Church Camps was with Camp Ojibway, a small camp owned by Hope Presbyterian. I thought working at a massive camp like Shamineau would be an outstanding Youth Ministry experience. I was familiar with Shamineau because some of my friends from high school went there and/or worked on staff as Jr. Counselors. Also, the woman of my dreams had been a counselor there for the two previous summers. I got the job unbeknownst to me a few weeks later; the women of my dreams once again applied and got a job as Camp Counselor there.
When I found out she would also be working at camp, it confirmed that God had a plan, and this relationship was meant to work out. Finally, after five long months, my tour was over, and I was back home. After a couple of days, I called her up, so we could meet and talk face to face. Seeing her again was all I could think about for those five months. I thought it was good to clear the air before working with each other all Summer. She didn't want to see me or talk. I was stunned and really hurt.
Orientation in preparation for the camp started, and I saw her beautiful face again at long last. Finally, one afternoon we got a chance to talk, and she explained to me where her head had been. She told me that she learned I wasn't the person she thought I was. Frankly, I was confused and stunned. I didn't know what to say. When I was with her, I was never more myself, my best self. (Note- that is the truth and hurts to write). She told me that she and the person she was seeking council from came to the conclusion that telling her that I loved her was wrong because it put her in a bad position. Apparently, despite numerous assurances to the contrary by me, she believed my declaration demanded that she respond in kind. For me, almost nothing was resolved, and I just had more questions with which to wrestle. Camp started, and I threw myself into the work of being the best counselor I could be. Many nights I would silently cry myself to sleep. I was confused and didn't know what to do, but pray, lean on my faith, and be at myself so she could see me for who I really was.
The Summer was emotional agony as I was so close to her, and she showed herself to be everything I knew her to be, entirely beautiful both inside and out. I had a conviction that working so closely together, she would come around. The Summer went by, and towards the end, we had a couple more talks. It became clear things were not going to work out in terms of a romantic relationship. I was deeply disappointed, but I had tried my best, and it was what it was. We talked, and I told her because I cared so much for her that I wanted us to be friends, and I meant it. I guess I was naive because, in my experience, there were girls who liked me that I wasn't interested in with whom I had built good friendships. To me, that was normal.
The Summer finally ended, and at first, I was just dazed and shocked that things didn't work out. But soon, the shock gave way to the sting of rejection, and I began to hemorrhage hurt and shame. I went into a deep depression and was emotionally shattered into a million pieces. My heart was broken, and there was nothing to soothe the pain. I did attempt to build a friendship with her, but she was cold, and I thought she was annoyed with the whole situation. Even though it hurt enormously, I knew I had to say goodbye for good. I didn't tell her what I was doing, but I made one last phone call, and that was my final goodbye.
I basically mourned my loss hardcore through the Fall, Winter, Spring, and into the next Summer. I was in dire need of friendship and even professional counseling, but I hid my deep hurt and suffered alone primarily, crying out only to God.
"What do I want from this life?"
I wanted to love and serve and minister to LEN every day of my life, and I wanted that more than anything I have ever wanted or will ever want. And it didn't happen. The whole experience wounded and changed me, and I don't know of one good thing that has come of it.
Still, while the most important, this wasn't my only dream.
"What do I want from this life?"
Wasn't what I really wanted from this life is to be used by God? Despite the emotional blow of that relationship failure, my commitment to God remained firm. In the Fall of 1994, I once again pursued the calling of a career in Youth Ministry by registering to go through the 7 week Tentmakers Youth Ministry training program. That Tentmaker training experience was good and, in many ways healing to me, but the truth was I still needed a lot more healing; I had fissures that would only grow as the strains of ministry took their toll.
My first official full-time paid Youth Ministry position was at an ELCA Lutheran Church in Canby, a small SW Minnesota town just a few miles from the South Dakota border. The Church was not the best fit for me as I didn't grow up in a small town or the Lutheran Church. In some ways, the culture, especially that of older teens, was foreign to me. With Tentmakers, you sign on for a two-year commitment, and it was pretty clear to me early on that the position would probably not grow into something more long-term beyond those two years.
My time in Canby had its highs and lows, and I lasted 2 years and 4 months, but as the last 12 months went by, things progressively got more difficult personally and professionally. I didn't go out on my own terms. Frankly, the situation sucked for a couple of different reasons. Without going too far into the weeds, the Church had a pastoral staff of two, Sr. Pastor and I. About a year in, the Sr. Pastor retired, and so the Synod brought in an interim Pastor while the Church conducted its search process for new leadership. The interim Pastor was fantastic and became a much-beloved mentor to me. The biggest suck at the end was the lousy position the interim Sr. Pastor was put in by the Church. The Church board rejected his advice about how to best handle my situation, and it was he that got hung out to dry because of it. He had to soldier on alone in a very demanding position for another year after I left because several consecutive Pastoral prospects fell through, and they kept having to totally restart the search process.
I had hoped to stay on at the Church through the end of the Summer for the sake of Pastor Cy; I would have been willing to stay on longer because there definitely would have been a need. As it was, the Church dumped me at the end of April. It seemed to work out well enough for me as I moved into my family's lake cabin near Annandale, MN. I fished all Summer into the Fall and applied for a few Youth Ministry positions. In early September, my parents' intended retirement home on some land up by Mille Lacs Lake, where I now live, was totally destroyed by a tornado. I then spent quite a bit of time here helping to clean up the mess.
I didn't get any of the ministry positions for which I was interviewed. When the weather got too cold at the Annandale cabin, I moved back in with my parents in Bloomington. It wasn't long before I started to get very depressed that I wasn't getting any offers for a new ministry position. Once again, my dream job of working at Hope Presbyterian had its whole Youth Ministry staff open up; I got a short letter thanking me for my interest and informing me I wouldn't even get an interview. I was significantly hurt by that development. As the winter wore on, I got extremely depressed. I lived a very isolated existence, having lost touch with friends from high school and college. I didn't get involved with Christian fellowship anywhere in the anticipation that a new church position was forthcoming, and that is where I would plugin again. However, I think it was in March or April that I attended my first meeting of the Fishers of Men Club (Twin Cities)
Winter turned into Spring without any offers and few interviews. Early in the Summer, I voluntarily assisted Tentmakers Youth Ministry for the first two weeks of the 7 week Youth Ministry Training. I hoped that experience might turn into something more, but it didn't, and I just got more depressed when no offer came. It was into September, and I was highly discouraged when I got a call for an interview with an Evangelical Free Church in the NW Suburb of Rogers, MN. The position was at an Evangelical Free Church, the one that runs Camp Shamineau. The interview process went well, and they offered me the job starting in October. I quickly found an optimal housing situation for me and my dog Soren and things seemed to be really clicking. Obviously, things were happening in God's timing, and I was the happiest I had been in a long time.
I wasn't in the Church very long, and I felt right at home. I thought that this was a position I would be in for a long time. The longer I was there, the more comfortable I felt, and things seemed to be going well. In March, I was to have a 6-month evaluation, but it didn't happen until mid-April. I was given a form to complete evaluating how I thought my performance had been and what I thought could be improved. I filled it out, turned it in to the people responsible for doing the review. Within a few days, I met with the Pastor and a couple of Men from the Church Board.
I was 100% blindsided by what they told me; in their view, my performance was unsatisfactory, and many problems needed immediate attention. To say the least, I was shocked. They basically put the ball in my court, giving me a few days to think and pray about it and get back to them. I went to my parent's cabin near Annandale to get away, and I fell apart. It was like getting rejected by her all over again. All those feelings of inadequacy dogging me ever since the breakup came to the surface wave after wave. After about a day of that, I went back home and sought counsel from several people about just what I should do. My ministry training said something was seriously wrong with the picture, and I was in an impossible situation where the chances of turning things around were relatively low. The only people that counseled me differently were the couple at the Church I was closest to on my ministry team. I decided it was best if I resigned, which I did as gracefully as I could.
Once again, my heart was broken, and there was no fix. After that fiasco, no church in their right mind would hire me, and I had 100% lost the ambition to ever try and be a Youth Pastor ever again.
"What do I want from this life?"
I wanted to be a Youth Minister serving my God for life, but I obviously wasn't very good at it when it came down to it. Epic Fail!
But on the bright side, at least I had my Norwegian Elkhound dog Soren, and I had found spiritual kinship in the Fishers of Men Fishing Club.
"What do I want from this life?"
That's a hard question when my two biggest dreams in life died miserable, longsuffering deaths. Some people are very resilient, and they quickly find new motivations; they find new dreams. I haven't. I just try to survive and am glad that the severe emotional pain has mostly gone away.
"What do I want from this life?"
I could still be used by God; wasn't that what I really wanted and had committed my life towards?
I stayed at the Church for a while because I liked the people and the youth, but eventually, I became disillusioned with and bitter towards the Pastor. I decided to leave the Church at that point. Turns out the Pastor didn't last much longer after having served there for about 20 years.
I ended up losing my ideal housing situation in the Spring of 2000 and then bounced around in a few that were less than ideal for the next couple of years. I had a job at an Outdoor retailer, which I enjoyed, but it didn't pay very well. I found myself sinking deeper into debt, a problem that had started back in Canby when I got sick, and my medical insurance was insufficient by a couple thousand dollars. I didn't think to ask the Church to step up. I probably had the chance to advance the company, but I wasn't motivated to do it. I got a 2nd job working nights in a warehouse that paid better, but then I was too tired to work at the store, so I had to quit.
Right after 9/11, I ended up moving in with a good friend from high school. He lived in an apartment in South Minneapolis that didn't allow dogs, so my dog Soren, much to my dismay, had to go live with my parents. After coming home one weekend from being up North fishing, I got back to find a note from my friend saying he was skipping town and I was on my own. Fortunately, the landlord was an understanding guy and let me stay there until I could find a new place. As it turns out, I would quickly find a great situation with a fantastic group of Christian guys in a house that was much closer to my job and took dogs, so Soren was back with me.
Life in this house was good for me as I was surrounded by great fellowship. I got involved with a good church one morning while I was reading my Bible and praying. I had a mystical experience; A brilliant white light came to me and spoke, and it was as if all the pain I had been carrying was taken away. Once again, I started to experience real profound joy, which was something that had escaped me ever since my heart was broken the first time. I was on a "spiritual high" for at least six months. But then my job situation started to sour as the company wasn't keeping its promises to me. I started getting physically fatigued. I went on vacation and didn't return until a couple of days after I was supposed to be back. At that point, the company owed me a raise which I hadn't seen in more than 6 months; I figured they owed me. They didn't see it that way, and I was fired.
I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do next and very half-heartedly looked for new employment. Pretty soon, I started getting very discouraged again. I began slipping spiritually, emotionally, financially, and, as I would soon find out, physically.
I had been unemployed for about 6 months when on March 14th, 2003, I woke up with the flu. It was awful. I also developed a nasty pain in my upper back between my shoulder blades. I had been experiencing similar pain after playing broomball games that winter, but I thought it was just a chronically pulled muscle. That morning the pain became excruciating at times. I thought I had terrible cramps from dehydration as I couldn't keep anything down. Eventually, I called my youngest brother, who didn't live very far away, to come to take me to the hospital so I could get an IV. I was miserable, and the pain was highly intense. I got to the emergency room and was admitted. I'm surprised I didn't pass out while being admitted; I was in bad shape.
The doctor came into my room and immediately zero' ed in on my shoulder pain, and brought an EKG into the room. Upon getting the readings, he knew I was going through something more serious than the flu. They wheeled me out of the room and gave me morphine, which made me feel worse as it tightened my already badly nauseated stomach. They also gave me nitro pills. Another doctor showed up, and they informed me I was having a heart attack and would be immediately ambulance to Mercy Hospital in Coon Rapids, where there is a Cath lab.
"What do I want from this life?"
While I waited for the ambulance to be ready, I was in so much pain I just wanted to die and was totally at peace with it.
As I am writing this now, I obviously didn't die, which is a bit surprising because my problem was in the "widowmaker," where a blockage often means you don't get to write a blog about it. I had an angioplasty with a stent put in, and then I was taken to Intensive Care. When I woke up, I was already feeling better, and the nurses were fabulous and all good looking which helped my mood;). Eventually, I was soon moved to a regular hospital room.
On the day of my heart attack, my Mom started heading home to Pennsylvania, where her Mom was dying. Upon getting the news about me, she immediately headed back to Minnesota. I think my Grandmother died the same day I was moved into the regular hospital room. Since it was clear I was out of the woods, my Mom headed back to Pennsylvania to be with her family there. The people of the Church where my youngest brother was a Youth Pastor were wonderful, and I was visited several times by one of their pastoral staff; I was given a prayer shawl knitted by the ladies of the Church, which was a true comfort.
"What do I want from this life?"
How about my medical bills paid?
One night while lying awake alone, it hit me that I was already beyond broke, without insurance, and I would have no way to pay for this. It was very depressing, and I cried myself to sleep that night. As it turns out, I was visited the next day by someone who inquired about my financial situation, which I laid out. This person assured me that things would be taken care of, and I didn't need to worry. I don't remember if I believed him very much.
I wasn't in particularly good shape, and when it came time to leave the hospital later in the week, I went to stay at my youngest brother's house. The Iraq War started, and I watched "Shock and Awe." I think it might have been the second night when my youngest brother, his wife, and I were watching TV sometime after 10PM when we got a call from my Mom asking us to pray. Her only remaining sister, of two, was unconscious, and my Aunt's heart had stopped. My Mom is a nurse and had been giving her sister CPR until the ambulance came. My Aunt was pronounced dead either in the ambulance or at the hospital; I forget which. Needless to say, it was a nightmare of a week for my mother.
It quickly became apparent that my heart had suffered significant damage, but it would not be evident how bad it was until another 6 months. While at my brother's, I got a letter in the mail informing me that all my medical bills would be paid in full by the hospital and the people of the great state of Minnesota. When I saw just how much it was, I was in "shock and awe" along with being very grateful. THANK YOU, Allina Health Systems and Minnesota!!!
Since I was weak and we didn't know just how bad off my heart would be, the decision was made that I would move in with my parents at their place on Platte Lake in Central Minnesota. Upon moving in with them, I started cardiac rehabilitation therapy at the local hospital in Onamia. I started regaining some physical strength and endurance back, but I needed to sleep a lot. I fell into chronic depression, but it wasn't as bad as it might be because of having my Mom and Dad so close, and of course, there were our dogs.
After 6 months, it came time to get checked to see how bad the damage was done to my heart. The results were not encouraging. I think my ejection fraction was down around 20, and 55-75 is considered a normal healthy heart. My cardiologist told me sometime in the future, but there is no way to know how long I will go into congestive heart failure and probably need a heart transplant. Also, I am at high risk of developing a fatal, irregular heartbeat, so I recommended that I get an Internal Cardio Defibrillator, which I had put in right before Thanksgiving.
"What do I want from this life?"
I just want to go fishing.
I have been lucky my heart function has improved with time, and now my ejection fraction is around 30, which is still pretty bad but way better than a 20. I dragged my feet but eventually decided to start the long process to apply for Social Security Disability about a year later.
Despite having my medical bills paid, with no income and little to no prospect of income in the immediate future, my financial situation was hopeless. I filed for bankruptcy, which was quite depressing. Pretty much the only assets I had were my fishing equipment and my truck; I got to keep those because they were such small potatoes.
I could become more independent, but I started running into conflicts with my mother over some things. My Mom and Dad were worried about my mental health, specifically my depression. They strongly suggested that I get counseling, which I did. I didn't tell anyone, but I started having strange mental symptoms and thought I was going crazy at times. I was put on medication for depression, but I don't think it helped, and my mental health was actually deteriorating. I started showing symptoms of bipolar disorder, but I kept that hidden for the most part, at least to the people physically around me. The people at the Internet message board RealityTVPlanet.com witnessed some of my erratic thoughts as I would go through manic phases.
By the end of the cardiac rehab in the Fall of 2003, I had regained a fair amount of physical stamina and was able to go fishing for extended periods. I continued to be involved with the Fishers of Men Fishing Club. In 2004 I joined a bass fishing club with the sponsorship of my oldest brother and his wife. I volunteered with Great Expectations Ministries or GEM, a fishing ministry to mostly underprivileged and inner-city youth based out of the Twin Cities. GEM runs Summer camps around greater Minnesota. In November of 2004, I started my blogging career.
Something that surely did not help matters in terms of my mental health was that on December 15th, 2004, my dog Soren suddenly and unexpectedly died at the young age of only 8. In his last couple of years, Soren had developed a series of health issues, and apparently, there was something more serious going on than the vets or we knew. Looking back, I think I handled it somewhat well. I always knew my time with Soren would be limited; I just didn't know how long. As it was, I could have died before Soren. While Soren was alive, I loved and enjoyed the dog about as much as I could. Losing Soren was tough but not wretchedly painful. I have a firm conviction that there is an afterlife, and I believe dogs make the cut.
"What do I want from this life?"
Soren to visit in my dreams, and from time to time, he does.
On September 26th of 2005, my deteriorating mental health came to a head, and I had a psychotic breakdown. I was hallucinating, and I had all kinds of distorted thoughts which I was acting out. It was bizarre, and I remember most of it. Literally, I had gone crazy. My parents called for an ambulance and their Pastor. I was entirely out of my mind. The Pastor showed up, as did the first responders, and then the ambulance came. I was coaxed into the ambulance by an excellent-looking parametric and maybe a good-looking first responder too. I may have been out of my mind, but not so far as to not be a sucker for a pretty girl. I was taken to the Onamia Hospital emergency room, where I was sedated and stabilized until they could find an open Psych Ward where they could send me. After a few hours and a visit from my youngest brother, the Youth Pastor, I was sent to a hospital in Duluth, MN. By the time I had talked with my brother, I was returning to normal but medicated. When I got to Duluth, I calmly explained everything that happened and what I had been thinking.
As you can imagine, this episode significantly frightened my parents and family. I stayed in Duluth for a few days of observation though I think I was back to totally sane before I went to bed that first night. I had daily meetings with the staff Psychiatrist and group therapy sessions with some of the other "guests." In a few days, I was cleared to go. My Mom wasn't so sure as I don't think she had been given a good explanation and was not assured it would not happen again. Dad drove me home on a beautiful Fall day.
"What do I want from this life?"
After that experience, just being in my right mind would be nice.
I was put on medications by the Onamia hospital Psychiatrist and got a different psychologist who was better equipped to deal with my case. The drugs seemed to make a positive difference, and my new therapist and I got along really well. In addition to being a licensed psychologist, he also has a Master of Divinity which I think helped immensely because spiritually, we were eye to eye. Eventually, my parents came to a few therapy sessions, which was really good for them and our relationship. My parents understood me better and what I had been and was going through. I think they felt a great deal more compassion for me, especially my Mom. In time, it seemed that my counseling sessions had run their course, and so we stopped, but I don't remember exactly when that was.
"What do I want from this life?"
I just want to go fishing, but soon I didn't even want to do that much.
In the Spring and early Summer of 2006, I started to develop an aversion to the heat when it was hot. I was getting fatigued much more quickly and for a longer duration. It may very well have been a side effect of my psychiatric medications. On July 8th, early in the morning, on my way to a bass club fishing tournament about 20 minutes into the trip, I hit a deer with my truck and pretty much totaled it. Amazingly I was able to turn the truck around and limp it home. Dad wanted me to take his vehicle and go to the tournament, but I was bummed out by this development and just went to bed. I went into a heat fatigued fueled depression and never fished another tournament with that bass club. The only thing I blogged about the whole month of July was about hitting the deer. On August 23rd, I blogged:
Ever since I hit that deer, I have had very little interest in fishing. I've only been on the water twice since; Both trips, I was fishing with someone else, or I wouldn't have bothered. Since I've had no interest in fishing, there has been no interest in blogging about fishing or anything else. I guess the BP is just drowning in the dog days of Summer. I didn't blog about a single thing in Sept 2006, the only month I haven't blogged anything since starting the Bass Pundit project in November 2004. Slowly my desire to fish and blog have come back, although ice fishing and Fall walleye trolling on Mille Lacs no longer animate me like they had previous to the breakdown.
"What do I want from this life?"
To be used by God, isn't that what I really want?
After the breakdown, I got actively involved with a Christian Missionary Alliance Church in Garrison, MN. That was good for a while, but I ran out of inspiration to be involved. After about a year and a half of attendance, I just stopped going. I haven't made any attempts to find a new church since. My participation with the Fishers of Men Fishing Club and with GEM would soon start to diminish significantly as well. The fact is my desire to be used by God has become seriously sapped out. I still acknowledge God with my head and still pray occasionally, but my heart is far away. Spiritually speaking, my heart is cold and indifferent.
With blogging and fishing in time, my desire to do those things has returned. Will I ever find desire and passion for God again?
"What do I want from this life?"
I want to love the Lord God with all my mind, heart, soul, and strength. But with what I've been through right now, I just can't seem to find much love. My mind seems dull, my heart is cold, my soul is in the wilderness, and my strength has failed me. Even still, I believe God has a great love for me even though I really just don't understand it.
In Psalm 73, one of my favorites, it is written:
"My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
This year for Christmas, the blogger Fisherbabe was inspired to write a rather introspective post for the holidays. This particular paragraph really hit me:
This holiday season, it is my wish for all of you that you ask yourself the question, "What do I want from this life?"...and that you give yourself a truly honest answer. You may be surprised at what flows forth from one simple question.
For whatever reason, I feel compelled to write out an answer to the question for myself.
I read the question "What do I want from this life?" and started thinking about my answer. My first thought was that I don't want or expect much from this life, and that is just the way it is for me. However, I didn't stop thinking about the question with just that and pondered myself a little further.
What do I really want from this life? Then something from out of my past stuck out clearly in my mind's eye. What I really want from this life is to be used by God. Was not that what I really want?
While on a youth group mission trip to Puerto Rico in 1986, at the age of 16, on a clear starry night at the top of a small mountain, while all alone, I committed my life to the Lordship of Jesus Christ; I vowed to serve God for the rest of my life. And for the next few years, I prepared myself to do just that with vigorous immersion into Bible study, prayer, Christian community, and ministry. I went to Northwestern Bible College in St. Paul, MN, to study the Bible and Youth Ministry, which I thought was my career soul-mate/calling. I took my studies seriously and was a dedicated student. At this time, things were, for the most part, going very well in my life, and it seemed that my dreams were within reach and would all come true. I graduated with honors and immediately got the job I wanted with a company out of California that put on multi-media assembly programs in schools throughout the country. I thought this would be a fun job before I got into the business of a full-time church Youth Ministry.
The job was excellent, and one night before I went to sleep, I started thinking about a girl who went to Northwestern College. I didn't really know her well, but I found her quite attractive physically. On a whim, I wrote her a letter, not knowing if I would ever hear back. Sure enough, she did write back, and I came to find out that she also had admired me from afar. I was going to be in the Twin Cities in a couple of weeks, so I asked her out on a date, and she enthusiastically accepted.
October 10th finally came, and I took her out to eat at a place I loved, the Lido Restaurant, where I worked all four years of college. Within the first half hour of the conversation, I was hopelessly in love and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was the woman I wanted to marry and spend the rest of my life with. I silently pledged to myself to do everything I could to make that happen. The date went exceptionally well, and we went out the next day as I would be leaving town, not to be back until Thanksgiving. While on the road, we wrote many letters back and forth, getting to know one another and often bearing our souls. Through the letters and phone calls, I was growing to love her more with every interaction. Thanksgiving time came, and I had to drive across Wisconsin in a nasty storm to get home, so I could see her again.
The day after Thanksgiving, I drove to Glenwood City, WI, to meet her family and go on our 3rd date. Things went very well, and that night under the stars, we kissed for the first time. And if it wasn't confirmed yet, I was now passionately in love with this girl. On the way home, I literally cried with joy for at least 15 minutes for having met someone so totally wonderful. Once again, for me, it was life on the road with a courtship of phone calls and letters. I was on top of the world; life had never been so good. Christmas break finally came, and I headed home where I would spend as much time as possible with her. We went out multiple times on day-long dates, either up with her family in WI or down in the Twin Cities.
On New Years' eve 1992, I drove to WI to pick her up to take her back to cities where we would spend the night together at my parents' house in Bloomington. On the long drive to Bloomington, we reflected back on the year; I think she asked me what the highlight of my year was. I told her it was graduating from college, which wasn't true. Meeting her was the biggest highlight. I asked her the question back, and she responded that meeting me was the highlight of her year. I was "over the moon," never had anyone told me something so wonderful. We held hands, and all was right with the world.
We brought in 1993 in each other's arms. We ended up falling asleep together, fully clothed people. I'm not having sex until I'm married. The following day we finished a book I had been reading her. She got pretty distraught as she shared with me the pain she and her family had gone through before her dad had come to Christ. He serially cheated on her mother. I comforted her the best I could, and we talked on a deeper level than we had ever before, and we had been plenty deep with each other before this point. My heart was now broken for her, and I knew more than ever there was no way I would ever want to live my life without her in it.
Things settled down, and eventually, we went downstairs and started making out again, fully clothed as always. During this time, I could not hold it in any longer, and I told her I loved her. She asked me if I was sure. I told her I was and we went back making out. Later on in the afternoon, I took her back to WI, and this would be the last time I would be able to see her until late May because my next job tour would be on the East Coast. Before she got out of the car, we prayed together, kissed one last time, and then she was gone.
1992 was the best year of my life; 1993 would be the worst.
Life on the road started out well as I basked in the glow of love. However, her trouble would soon rise as she began to struggle with the question of love. She wrote to me that she promised herself when she was young that she would never tell a guy she loved him until she was absolutely sure. She noted that she cared for me more than any guy she had ever met, but she couldn't yet say she knew me well enough to say she loved me. I wasn't bothered by this as all and was satisfied that she obviously cared deeply for me. I was in no rush for her to do anything as I was sure she would come around to the point where she could say she loved me in time. In a letter, she questioned how I could say I loved her, and I answered her back, trying to make her understand. My love for her was more than a feeling but a deep conviction within my mind, heart, and soul. My answers did not satisfy her, and one night in late February, I got a call, and she was in tears over this question. I don't remember what I told her, but apparently, it wasn't right, and soon she would grow distant, and her letters stopped coming. After what seemed like an eternity, I reached her by phone, and we agreed that she needed some space to work things out. The phone calls would stop, but I could still write her letters, though I shouldn't expect any back. I was obviously troubled by this but not too deep as I was confident this was a difficulty that could be overcome. I was confident it was God's will that we be together, and nothing could stop that, right? The next few months were tough, but I had a deep hope that things would work out when we could get together and talk things through face to face when my tour was over.
Another thing that happened during this time was that my dream Youth Ministry job, Jr. High Minister of Youth at Hope Presbyterian (my home church), had opened up, and I went through the interview process. The people involved in the search were familiar with me because we had worked closely together for several years when I was in college, volunteering and interning with this youth program. Much to my dismay, I didn't get the job. The significance of this would weigh on me much heavier later on down the line.
In addition to candidating for the Hope Youth Ministry position, I applied to be a Camp Counselor at Camp Shamineau near Motley, MN. To this point, my experience with Church Camps was with Camp Ojibway, a small camp owned by Hope Presbyterian. I thought working at a massive camp like Shamineau would be an outstanding Youth Ministry experience. I was familiar with Shamineau because some of my friends from high school went there and/or worked on staff as Jr. Counselors. Also, the woman of my dreams had been a counselor there for the two previous summers. I got the job unbeknownst to me a few weeks later; the women of my dreams once again applied and got a job as Camp Counselor there.
When I found out she would also be working at camp, it confirmed that God had a plan, and this relationship was meant to work out. Finally, after five long months, my tour was over, and I was back home. After a couple of days, I called her up, so we could meet and talk face to face. Seeing her again was all I could think about for those five months. I thought it was good to clear the air before working with each other all Summer. She didn't want to see me or talk. I was stunned and really hurt.
Orientation in preparation for the camp started, and I saw her beautiful face again at long last. Finally, one afternoon we got a chance to talk, and she explained to me where her head had been. She told me that she learned I wasn't the person she thought I was. Frankly, I was confused and stunned. I didn't know what to say. When I was with her, I was never more myself, my best self. (Note- that is the truth and hurts to write). She told me that she and the person she was seeking council from came to the conclusion that telling her that I loved her was wrong because it put her in a bad position. Apparently, despite numerous assurances to the contrary by me, she believed my declaration demanded that she respond in kind. For me, almost nothing was resolved, and I just had more questions with which to wrestle. Camp started, and I threw myself into the work of being the best counselor I could be. Many nights I would silently cry myself to sleep. I was confused and didn't know what to do, but pray, lean on my faith, and be at myself so she could see me for who I really was.
The Summer was emotional agony as I was so close to her, and she showed herself to be everything I knew her to be, entirely beautiful both inside and out. I had a conviction that working so closely together, she would come around. The Summer went by, and towards the end, we had a couple more talks. It became clear things were not going to work out in terms of a romantic relationship. I was deeply disappointed, but I had tried my best, and it was what it was. We talked, and I told her because I cared so much for her that I wanted us to be friends, and I meant it. I guess I was naive because, in my experience, there were girls who liked me that I wasn't interested in with whom I had built good friendships. To me, that was normal.
The Summer finally ended, and at first, I was just dazed and shocked that things didn't work out. But soon, the shock gave way to the sting of rejection, and I began to hemorrhage hurt and shame. I went into a deep depression and was emotionally shattered into a million pieces. My heart was broken, and there was nothing to soothe the pain. I did attempt to build a friendship with her, but she was cold, and I thought she was annoyed with the whole situation. Even though it hurt enormously, I knew I had to say goodbye for good. I didn't tell her what I was doing, but I made one last phone call, and that was my final goodbye.
I basically mourned my loss hardcore through the Fall, Winter, Spring, and into the next Summer. I was in dire need of friendship and even professional counseling, but I hid my deep hurt and suffered alone primarily, crying out only to God.
"What do I want from this life?"
I wanted to love and serve and minister to LEN every day of my life, and I wanted that more than anything I have ever wanted or will ever want. And it didn't happen. The whole experience wounded and changed me, and I don't know of one good thing that has come of it.
Still, while the most important, this wasn't my only dream.
"What do I want from this life?"
Wasn't what I really wanted from this life is to be used by God? Despite the emotional blow of that relationship failure, my commitment to God remained firm. In the Fall of 1994, I once again pursued the calling of a career in Youth Ministry by registering to go through the 7 week Tentmakers Youth Ministry training program. That Tentmaker training experience was good and, in many ways healing to me, but the truth was I still needed a lot more healing; I had fissures that would only grow as the strains of ministry took their toll.
My first official full-time paid Youth Ministry position was at an ELCA Lutheran Church in Canby, a small SW Minnesota town just a few miles from the South Dakota border. The Church was not the best fit for me as I didn't grow up in a small town or the Lutheran Church. In some ways, the culture, especially that of older teens, was foreign to me. With Tentmakers, you sign on for a two-year commitment, and it was pretty clear to me early on that the position would probably not grow into something more long-term beyond those two years.
My time in Canby had its highs and lows, and I lasted 2 years and 4 months, but as the last 12 months went by, things progressively got more difficult personally and professionally. I didn't go out on my own terms. Frankly, the situation sucked for a couple of different reasons. Without going too far into the weeds, the Church had a pastoral staff of two, Sr. Pastor and I. About a year in, the Sr. Pastor retired, and so the Synod brought in an interim Pastor while the Church conducted its search process for new leadership. The interim Pastor was fantastic and became a much-beloved mentor to me. The biggest suck at the end was the lousy position the interim Sr. Pastor was put in by the Church. The Church board rejected his advice about how to best handle my situation, and it was he that got hung out to dry because of it. He had to soldier on alone in a very demanding position for another year after I left because several consecutive Pastoral prospects fell through, and they kept having to totally restart the search process.
I had hoped to stay on at the Church through the end of the Summer for the sake of Pastor Cy; I would have been willing to stay on longer because there definitely would have been a need. As it was, the Church dumped me at the end of April. It seemed to work out well enough for me as I moved into my family's lake cabin near Annandale, MN. I fished all Summer into the Fall and applied for a few Youth Ministry positions. In early September, my parents' intended retirement home on some land up by Mille Lacs Lake, where I now live, was totally destroyed by a tornado. I then spent quite a bit of time here helping to clean up the mess.
I didn't get any of the ministry positions for which I was interviewed. When the weather got too cold at the Annandale cabin, I moved back in with my parents in Bloomington. It wasn't long before I started to get very depressed that I wasn't getting any offers for a new ministry position. Once again, my dream job of working at Hope Presbyterian had its whole Youth Ministry staff open up; I got a short letter thanking me for my interest and informing me I wouldn't even get an interview. I was significantly hurt by that development. As the winter wore on, I got extremely depressed. I lived a very isolated existence, having lost touch with friends from high school and college. I didn't get involved with Christian fellowship anywhere in the anticipation that a new church position was forthcoming, and that is where I would plugin again. However, I think it was in March or April that I attended my first meeting of the Fishers of Men Club (Twin Cities)
Winter turned into Spring without any offers and few interviews. Early in the Summer, I voluntarily assisted Tentmakers Youth Ministry for the first two weeks of the 7 week Youth Ministry Training. I hoped that experience might turn into something more, but it didn't, and I just got more depressed when no offer came. It was into September, and I was highly discouraged when I got a call for an interview with an Evangelical Free Church in the NW Suburb of Rogers, MN. The position was at an Evangelical Free Church, the one that runs Camp Shamineau. The interview process went well, and they offered me the job starting in October. I quickly found an optimal housing situation for me and my dog Soren and things seemed to be really clicking. Obviously, things were happening in God's timing, and I was the happiest I had been in a long time.
I wasn't in the Church very long, and I felt right at home. I thought that this was a position I would be in for a long time. The longer I was there, the more comfortable I felt, and things seemed to be going well. In March, I was to have a 6-month evaluation, but it didn't happen until mid-April. I was given a form to complete evaluating how I thought my performance had been and what I thought could be improved. I filled it out, turned it in to the people responsible for doing the review. Within a few days, I met with the Pastor and a couple of Men from the Church Board.
I was 100% blindsided by what they told me; in their view, my performance was unsatisfactory, and many problems needed immediate attention. To say the least, I was shocked. They basically put the ball in my court, giving me a few days to think and pray about it and get back to them. I went to my parent's cabin near Annandale to get away, and I fell apart. It was like getting rejected by her all over again. All those feelings of inadequacy dogging me ever since the breakup came to the surface wave after wave. After about a day of that, I went back home and sought counsel from several people about just what I should do. My ministry training said something was seriously wrong with the picture, and I was in an impossible situation where the chances of turning things around were relatively low. The only people that counseled me differently were the couple at the Church I was closest to on my ministry team. I decided it was best if I resigned, which I did as gracefully as I could.
Once again, my heart was broken, and there was no fix. After that fiasco, no church in their right mind would hire me, and I had 100% lost the ambition to ever try and be a Youth Pastor ever again.
"What do I want from this life?"
I wanted to be a Youth Minister serving my God for life, but I obviously wasn't very good at it when it came down to it. Epic Fail!
But on the bright side, at least I had my Norwegian Elkhound dog Soren, and I had found spiritual kinship in the Fishers of Men Fishing Club.
"What do I want from this life?"
That's a hard question when my two biggest dreams in life died miserable, longsuffering deaths. Some people are very resilient, and they quickly find new motivations; they find new dreams. I haven't. I just try to survive and am glad that the severe emotional pain has mostly gone away.
"What do I want from this life?"
I could still be used by God; wasn't that what I really wanted and had committed my life towards?
I stayed at the Church for a while because I liked the people and the youth, but eventually, I became disillusioned with and bitter towards the Pastor. I decided to leave the Church at that point. Turns out the Pastor didn't last much longer after having served there for about 20 years.
I ended up losing my ideal housing situation in the Spring of 2000 and then bounced around in a few that were less than ideal for the next couple of years. I had a job at an Outdoor retailer, which I enjoyed, but it didn't pay very well. I found myself sinking deeper into debt, a problem that had started back in Canby when I got sick, and my medical insurance was insufficient by a couple thousand dollars. I didn't think to ask the Church to step up. I probably had the chance to advance the company, but I wasn't motivated to do it. I got a 2nd job working nights in a warehouse that paid better, but then I was too tired to work at the store, so I had to quit.
Right after 9/11, I ended up moving in with a good friend from high school. He lived in an apartment in South Minneapolis that didn't allow dogs, so my dog Soren, much to my dismay, had to go live with my parents. After coming home one weekend from being up North fishing, I got back to find a note from my friend saying he was skipping town and I was on my own. Fortunately, the landlord was an understanding guy and let me stay there until I could find a new place. As it turns out, I would quickly find a great situation with a fantastic group of Christian guys in a house that was much closer to my job and took dogs, so Soren was back with me.
Life in this house was good for me as I was surrounded by great fellowship. I got involved with a good church one morning while I was reading my Bible and praying. I had a mystical experience; A brilliant white light came to me and spoke, and it was as if all the pain I had been carrying was taken away. Once again, I started to experience real profound joy, which was something that had escaped me ever since my heart was broken the first time. I was on a "spiritual high" for at least six months. But then my job situation started to sour as the company wasn't keeping its promises to me. I started getting physically fatigued. I went on vacation and didn't return until a couple of days after I was supposed to be back. At that point, the company owed me a raise which I hadn't seen in more than 6 months; I figured they owed me. They didn't see it that way, and I was fired.
I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do next and very half-heartedly looked for new employment. Pretty soon, I started getting very discouraged again. I began slipping spiritually, emotionally, financially, and, as I would soon find out, physically.
I had been unemployed for about 6 months when on March 14th, 2003, I woke up with the flu. It was awful. I also developed a nasty pain in my upper back between my shoulder blades. I had been experiencing similar pain after playing broomball games that winter, but I thought it was just a chronically pulled muscle. That morning the pain became excruciating at times. I thought I had terrible cramps from dehydration as I couldn't keep anything down. Eventually, I called my youngest brother, who didn't live very far away, to come to take me to the hospital so I could get an IV. I was miserable, and the pain was highly intense. I got to the emergency room and was admitted. I'm surprised I didn't pass out while being admitted; I was in bad shape.
The doctor came into my room and immediately zero' ed in on my shoulder pain, and brought an EKG into the room. Upon getting the readings, he knew I was going through something more serious than the flu. They wheeled me out of the room and gave me morphine, which made me feel worse as it tightened my already badly nauseated stomach. They also gave me nitro pills. Another doctor showed up, and they informed me I was having a heart attack and would be immediately ambulance to Mercy Hospital in Coon Rapids, where there is a Cath lab.
"What do I want from this life?"
While I waited for the ambulance to be ready, I was in so much pain I just wanted to die and was totally at peace with it.
As I am writing this now, I obviously didn't die, which is a bit surprising because my problem was in the "widowmaker," where a blockage often means you don't get to write a blog about it. I had an angioplasty with a stent put in, and then I was taken to Intensive Care. When I woke up, I was already feeling better, and the nurses were fabulous and all good looking which helped my mood;). Eventually, I was soon moved to a regular hospital room.
On the day of my heart attack, my Mom started heading home to Pennsylvania, where her Mom was dying. Upon getting the news about me, she immediately headed back to Minnesota. I think my Grandmother died the same day I was moved into the regular hospital room. Since it was clear I was out of the woods, my Mom headed back to Pennsylvania to be with her family there. The people of the Church where my youngest brother was a Youth Pastor were wonderful, and I was visited several times by one of their pastoral staff; I was given a prayer shawl knitted by the ladies of the Church, which was a true comfort.
"What do I want from this life?"
How about my medical bills paid?
One night while lying awake alone, it hit me that I was already beyond broke, without insurance, and I would have no way to pay for this. It was very depressing, and I cried myself to sleep that night. As it turns out, I was visited the next day by someone who inquired about my financial situation, which I laid out. This person assured me that things would be taken care of, and I didn't need to worry. I don't remember if I believed him very much.
I wasn't in particularly good shape, and when it came time to leave the hospital later in the week, I went to stay at my youngest brother's house. The Iraq War started, and I watched "Shock and Awe." I think it might have been the second night when my youngest brother, his wife, and I were watching TV sometime after 10PM when we got a call from my Mom asking us to pray. Her only remaining sister, of two, was unconscious, and my Aunt's heart had stopped. My Mom is a nurse and had been giving her sister CPR until the ambulance came. My Aunt was pronounced dead either in the ambulance or at the hospital; I forget which. Needless to say, it was a nightmare of a week for my mother.
It quickly became apparent that my heart had suffered significant damage, but it would not be evident how bad it was until another 6 months. While at my brother's, I got a letter in the mail informing me that all my medical bills would be paid in full by the hospital and the people of the great state of Minnesota. When I saw just how much it was, I was in "shock and awe" along with being very grateful. THANK YOU, Allina Health Systems and Minnesota!!!
Since I was weak and we didn't know just how bad off my heart would be, the decision was made that I would move in with my parents at their place on Platte Lake in Central Minnesota. Upon moving in with them, I started cardiac rehabilitation therapy at the local hospital in Onamia. I started regaining some physical strength and endurance back, but I needed to sleep a lot. I fell into chronic depression, but it wasn't as bad as it might be because of having my Mom and Dad so close, and of course, there were our dogs.
After 6 months, it came time to get checked to see how bad the damage was done to my heart. The results were not encouraging. I think my ejection fraction was down around 20, and 55-75 is considered a normal healthy heart. My cardiologist told me sometime in the future, but there is no way to know how long I will go into congestive heart failure and probably need a heart transplant. Also, I am at high risk of developing a fatal, irregular heartbeat, so I recommended that I get an Internal Cardio Defibrillator, which I had put in right before Thanksgiving.
"What do I want from this life?"
I just want to go fishing.
I have been lucky my heart function has improved with time, and now my ejection fraction is around 30, which is still pretty bad but way better than a 20. I dragged my feet but eventually decided to start the long process to apply for Social Security Disability about a year later.
Despite having my medical bills paid, with no income and little to no prospect of income in the immediate future, my financial situation was hopeless. I filed for bankruptcy, which was quite depressing. Pretty much the only assets I had were my fishing equipment and my truck; I got to keep those because they were such small potatoes.
I could become more independent, but I started running into conflicts with my mother over some things. My Mom and Dad were worried about my mental health, specifically my depression. They strongly suggested that I get counseling, which I did. I didn't tell anyone, but I started having strange mental symptoms and thought I was going crazy at times. I was put on medication for depression, but I don't think it helped, and my mental health was actually deteriorating. I started showing symptoms of bipolar disorder, but I kept that hidden for the most part, at least to the people physically around me. The people at the Internet message board RealityTVPlanet.com witnessed some of my erratic thoughts as I would go through manic phases.
By the end of the cardiac rehab in the Fall of 2003, I had regained a fair amount of physical stamina and was able to go fishing for extended periods. I continued to be involved with the Fishers of Men Fishing Club. In 2004 I joined a bass fishing club with the sponsorship of my oldest brother and his wife. I volunteered with Great Expectations Ministries or GEM, a fishing ministry to mostly underprivileged and inner-city youth based out of the Twin Cities. GEM runs Summer camps around greater Minnesota. In November of 2004, I started my blogging career.
Something that surely did not help matters in terms of my mental health was that on December 15th, 2004, my dog Soren suddenly and unexpectedly died at the young age of only 8. In his last couple of years, Soren had developed a series of health issues, and apparently, there was something more serious going on than the vets or we knew. Looking back, I think I handled it somewhat well. I always knew my time with Soren would be limited; I just didn't know how long. As it was, I could have died before Soren. While Soren was alive, I loved and enjoyed the dog about as much as I could. Losing Soren was tough but not wretchedly painful. I have a firm conviction that there is an afterlife, and I believe dogs make the cut.
"What do I want from this life?"
Soren to visit in my dreams, and from time to time, he does.
On September 26th of 2005, my deteriorating mental health came to a head, and I had a psychotic breakdown. I was hallucinating, and I had all kinds of distorted thoughts which I was acting out. It was bizarre, and I remember most of it. Literally, I had gone crazy. My parents called for an ambulance and their Pastor. I was entirely out of my mind. The Pastor showed up, as did the first responders, and then the ambulance came. I was coaxed into the ambulance by an excellent-looking parametric and maybe a good-looking first responder too. I may have been out of my mind, but not so far as to not be a sucker for a pretty girl. I was taken to the Onamia Hospital emergency room, where I was sedated and stabilized until they could find an open Psych Ward where they could send me. After a few hours and a visit from my youngest brother, the Youth Pastor, I was sent to a hospital in Duluth, MN. By the time I had talked with my brother, I was returning to normal but medicated. When I got to Duluth, I calmly explained everything that happened and what I had been thinking.
As you can imagine, this episode significantly frightened my parents and family. I stayed in Duluth for a few days of observation though I think I was back to totally sane before I went to bed that first night. I had daily meetings with the staff Psychiatrist and group therapy sessions with some of the other "guests." In a few days, I was cleared to go. My Mom wasn't so sure as I don't think she had been given a good explanation and was not assured it would not happen again. Dad drove me home on a beautiful Fall day.
"What do I want from this life?"
After that experience, just being in my right mind would be nice.
I was put on medications by the Onamia hospital Psychiatrist and got a different psychologist who was better equipped to deal with my case. The drugs seemed to make a positive difference, and my new therapist and I got along really well. In addition to being a licensed psychologist, he also has a Master of Divinity which I think helped immensely because spiritually, we were eye to eye. Eventually, my parents came to a few therapy sessions, which was really good for them and our relationship. My parents understood me better and what I had been and was going through. I think they felt a great deal more compassion for me, especially my Mom. In time, it seemed that my counseling sessions had run their course, and so we stopped, but I don't remember exactly when that was.
"What do I want from this life?"
I just want to go fishing, but soon I didn't even want to do that much.
In the Spring and early Summer of 2006, I started to develop an aversion to the heat when it was hot. I was getting fatigued much more quickly and for a longer duration. It may very well have been a side effect of my psychiatric medications. On July 8th, early in the morning, on my way to a bass club fishing tournament about 20 minutes into the trip, I hit a deer with my truck and pretty much totaled it. Amazingly I was able to turn the truck around and limp it home. Dad wanted me to take his vehicle and go to the tournament, but I was bummed out by this development and just went to bed. I went into a heat fatigued fueled depression and never fished another tournament with that bass club. The only thing I blogged about the whole month of July was about hitting the deer. On August 23rd, I blogged:
Ever since I hit that deer, I have had very little interest in fishing. I've only been on the water twice since; Both trips, I was fishing with someone else, or I wouldn't have bothered. Since I've had no interest in fishing, there has been no interest in blogging about fishing or anything else. I guess the BP is just drowning in the dog days of Summer. I didn't blog about a single thing in Sept 2006, the only month I haven't blogged anything since starting the Bass Pundit project in November 2004. Slowly my desire to fish and blog have come back, although ice fishing and Fall walleye trolling on Mille Lacs no longer animate me like they had previous to the breakdown.
"What do I want from this life?"
To be used by God, isn't that what I really want?
After the breakdown, I got actively involved with a Christian Missionary Alliance Church in Garrison, MN. That was good for a while, but I ran out of inspiration to be involved. After about a year and a half of attendance, I just stopped going. I haven't made any attempts to find a new church since. My participation with the Fishers of Men Fishing Club and with GEM would soon start to diminish significantly as well. The fact is my desire to be used by God has become seriously sapped out. I still acknowledge God with my head and still pray occasionally, but my heart is far away. Spiritually speaking, my heart is cold and indifferent.
With blogging and fishing in time, my desire to do those things has returned. Will I ever find desire and passion for God again?
"What do I want from this life?"
I want to love the Lord God with all my mind, heart, soul, and strength. But with what I've been through right now, I just can't seem to find much love. My mind seems dull, my heart is cold, my soul is in the wilderness, and my strength has failed me. Even still, I believe God has a great love for me even though I really just don't understand it.
In Psalm 73, one of my favorites, it is written:
"My flesh and my heart may fail, But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
Saturday, December 11, 2010
To Boyd Duckett (and Kevin Short): I Disagree
On his two blogs (Boyd's Blog, Boyd's Biz Boyd Ducket writes a blog post entitled: "To Kevin Short: I agree" or at Boyd's Biz: "Dear Kevin Short — I agree with you"
Boyd is responding to Kevin Short's essay found on the blog Bass Parade entitled Short Challenges Duckett, All Elites
Boyd writes:
...But let me address another thing that Kevin said, because he made a great point. He said he would be happy if we, the pro anglers, could receive no information at any time about the bodies of water we’re going to fish. No help from locals, in other words.
I agree with that 100 percent.
I think a “no help rule” would be outstanding — a great thing for our sport.
I think Boyd and Kevin Short are 100% wrong about this. One of the greatest things about the sport of fishing, any kind of fishing, is that the sport is heavily built upon personal relationships. Ray Scott had it right in the beginning when he recognized that bass fishing could and should be a fraternity. Getting help from others when it comes to fishing is a feature, not a bug. It's a feature precisely because it builds relationships and community and isn't that what we claim is important? I believe a "no help rule ever" sends the wrong message to bass anglers everywhere. The flip side of you can't get help, is that it is wrong to give help. There is already too much of that kind of attitude when it comes to bass tournament anglers as it is now.
I've seen it on Facebook where Professional anglers due to "no info rules" have basically had to tell someone to shut up and keep it to themselves when offered a simple helpful suggestion. Shutting out others especially with the technology we have at our fingertips now is the wrong way to go, period.
I add more thoughts at Futurebass.com Forums...
Boyd is responding to Kevin Short's essay found on the blog Bass Parade entitled Short Challenges Duckett, All Elites
Boyd writes:
...But let me address another thing that Kevin said, because he made a great point. He said he would be happy if we, the pro anglers, could receive no information at any time about the bodies of water we’re going to fish. No help from locals, in other words.
I agree with that 100 percent.
I think a “no help rule” would be outstanding — a great thing for our sport.
I think Boyd and Kevin Short are 100% wrong about this. One of the greatest things about the sport of fishing, any kind of fishing, is that the sport is heavily built upon personal relationships. Ray Scott had it right in the beginning when he recognized that bass fishing could and should be a fraternity. Getting help from others when it comes to fishing is a feature, not a bug. It's a feature precisely because it builds relationships and community and isn't that what we claim is important? I believe a "no help rule ever" sends the wrong message to bass anglers everywhere. The flip side of you can't get help, is that it is wrong to give help. There is already too much of that kind of attitude when it comes to bass tournament anglers as it is now.
I've seen it on Facebook where Professional anglers due to "no info rules" have basically had to tell someone to shut up and keep it to themselves when offered a simple helpful suggestion. Shutting out others especially with the technology we have at our fingertips now is the wrong way to go, period.
I add more thoughts at Futurebass.com Forums...
Thursday, August 19, 2010
My Thoughts On Six Idea's
BassFan Editor-In-Chief Jon Storm wrote an Op-Ed entitled "Upon the Cliff" where he threw out 6 ideas that he would like to see implemented by the new management at BASS and FLW.
Here are the 6 ideas and my thoughts.
1. The sport needs a unifying championship to survive. Period.
I guess a unifying championship would be OK, but I don't think it's something that is vital. Also I wonder exactly what Storm has in mind as there is a lot of different ways you can go with this. It isn't clear to me what a unifying championship would look like.
2. The sport needs a joint conservation, youth and legislative body to take on the antis and polluters. We must ensure there are players and a playing field for the sport in the future.
I view this one as another nice, but not necessary. It is not clear to me that having one big centralized initiative is better than having a diverse coalition of smaller initiatives of varying sizes.
3. Tours should be exclusive, not inclusive. Billy Joe shouldn't get to fish against Kevin VanDam, Skeet Reese or Brent Ehrler just because he's got a trust fund or a gas well in his backyard. Make it tough to get on a tour and demand a multiyear performance level to stay there.
On this one I think there are Pro's and Con's for both approaches. Obviously the Elite Series is more exclusive and the FLW Tour is more inclusive. I think there is room for both models.
4. The sport needs to ditch its focus on 1st-place payout and balance the payout down the field. Once you pay your dues to reach a tour, it should be a profitable or break-even venture to stay there. And fans simply don't care how much a pro athlete wins at an event.
I tend to agree with this point as I think it's something that will make the sport more sustainable for those trying to live the dream.
5. Outlaw made-for-TV events and formats, like the BASS post-season or the FLW Tour cut to the Top 5.
Obviously there are serious flaws with the BASS post-season that need to be addressed and scrapping the thing wholesale might be the answer. As far as the FLW cut to 5, I'm not really sure why he singled this out. Cut to 5, Cut to 10, Cut to 12 whatever cutting the field down makes sense to me.
6. Distribute house money fairly. As BASS stabilizes, it should use sponsor money to cut entry fees first, boost purses second. Same for the FLW Tour. But also, performance should dictate who gets FLW sponsor-team deals, not who you know, what you look like or which boat you drive. And FLW team money should go to tour pros only, not co-anglers.
I was right with this one until he advocated cutting out the Co-Anglers. As I've made clear on many occasions, I believe Co-Anglers are good for the sport. I think it is a feature that bass fishing has an avenue open for fans to fish with the Pro's while in serious competition. I think Co-Anglers should have a shot at incentives and a piece of the pie. This kind of gets to one of the Cons about making the sport more exclusive. I think as you make professional bass fishing more exclusive you limit the overall outreach potential of the sport. Kevin Van Dam can only be in one place at a time. More people are on the radar screen when you have an army of Tami Curtis's, Chris Ricci's, Matt Peters and Ashley Rae's. I certainly think more can be done to promote Co-Anglers and to get Co-Anglers out promoting themselves and the sport.
Here are the 6 ideas and my thoughts.
1. The sport needs a unifying championship to survive. Period.
I guess a unifying championship would be OK, but I don't think it's something that is vital. Also I wonder exactly what Storm has in mind as there is a lot of different ways you can go with this. It isn't clear to me what a unifying championship would look like.
2. The sport needs a joint conservation, youth and legislative body to take on the antis and polluters. We must ensure there are players and a playing field for the sport in the future.
I view this one as another nice, but not necessary. It is not clear to me that having one big centralized initiative is better than having a diverse coalition of smaller initiatives of varying sizes.
3. Tours should be exclusive, not inclusive. Billy Joe shouldn't get to fish against Kevin VanDam, Skeet Reese or Brent Ehrler just because he's got a trust fund or a gas well in his backyard. Make it tough to get on a tour and demand a multiyear performance level to stay there.
On this one I think there are Pro's and Con's for both approaches. Obviously the Elite Series is more exclusive and the FLW Tour is more inclusive. I think there is room for both models.
4. The sport needs to ditch its focus on 1st-place payout and balance the payout down the field. Once you pay your dues to reach a tour, it should be a profitable or break-even venture to stay there. And fans simply don't care how much a pro athlete wins at an event.
I tend to agree with this point as I think it's something that will make the sport more sustainable for those trying to live the dream.
5. Outlaw made-for-TV events and formats, like the BASS post-season or the FLW Tour cut to the Top 5.
Obviously there are serious flaws with the BASS post-season that need to be addressed and scrapping the thing wholesale might be the answer. As far as the FLW cut to 5, I'm not really sure why he singled this out. Cut to 5, Cut to 10, Cut to 12 whatever cutting the field down makes sense to me.
6. Distribute house money fairly. As BASS stabilizes, it should use sponsor money to cut entry fees first, boost purses second. Same for the FLW Tour. But also, performance should dictate who gets FLW sponsor-team deals, not who you know, what you look like or which boat you drive. And FLW team money should go to tour pros only, not co-anglers.
I was right with this one until he advocated cutting out the Co-Anglers. As I've made clear on many occasions, I believe Co-Anglers are good for the sport. I think it is a feature that bass fishing has an avenue open for fans to fish with the Pro's while in serious competition. I think Co-Anglers should have a shot at incentives and a piece of the pie. This kind of gets to one of the Cons about making the sport more exclusive. I think as you make professional bass fishing more exclusive you limit the overall outreach potential of the sport. Kevin Van Dam can only be in one place at a time. More people are on the radar screen when you have an army of Tami Curtis's, Chris Ricci's, Matt Peters and Ashley Rae's. I certainly think more can be done to promote Co-Anglers and to get Co-Anglers out promoting themselves and the sport.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Mike Hart Cheating Scandal- My Thoughts
I am not really sure if I even have a dog in this fight. On the one hand I have and do fish bass tournaments, but on the other hand I never have been very serious about it in terms of monetary investment and probably never will get to that point, so basically there is no chance that I have or will get swindled personally. Whether I have a dog or not here are my thoughts.
I think this guy Mike Hart as a bass fisherman is the worst kind of cheater you can get and is total scum for it. Not only was he into ripping off people but he did it in such a way that I think was harmful and cruel to the fish. And while I don't know the science, I would suspect stuffing ounces of lead into the bellies of bass who could possibly go on to survive for long periods of time with the lead in their belly after the deed would create a lead poisoning risk for humans who might eat the fish. I hope he gets charged for environmental damages beyond the obvious fraud involved.
My second thought on the matter is that I am pretty sure this was not the first time he has commited the fraud. Those weights looked to be specifically made for the purpose by which they were used and the system was so slick that a the Co-Angler in the boat wouldn't and didn't even notice anything suspicious. On bass fishing message boards I have seen it documented that this guy has won thousands upon thousands of dollars in tournaments over the past several years and from what I understand he has been a highly successful tournament fisherman for more than a decade. I think all of that "success" gets called into question. I think he needs to come clean about the scope of his cheating and should at a minimum pay back entry fees of all the anglers he has defrauded over the years. Short of that I hope there is enough grounds and legal standing for civil liability to force the issue if he isn't forthcoming.
My final thought is that Mike Hart seems to have been a very very good fishermen seemingly without "the need" to cheat to do well for himself. The cheating on top of that, however, would often be enough to push him over the top from an OK finish, right into where the big money comes into play because of the way tournament dollars are allocated in a top heavy manor. This gets us back to my second point in that I think he owes a lot of people their money back. I don't know Mike Hart's financial situation but I hope he can afford to be "generous" in his contrition. If not, bankruptcy isn't too large a price. You have to feel for his wife and family, but that is true for all innocent familial relations of criminals.
I think this guy Mike Hart as a bass fisherman is the worst kind of cheater you can get and is total scum for it. Not only was he into ripping off people but he did it in such a way that I think was harmful and cruel to the fish. And while I don't know the science, I would suspect stuffing ounces of lead into the bellies of bass who could possibly go on to survive for long periods of time with the lead in their belly after the deed would create a lead poisoning risk for humans who might eat the fish. I hope he gets charged for environmental damages beyond the obvious fraud involved.
My second thought on the matter is that I am pretty sure this was not the first time he has commited the fraud. Those weights looked to be specifically made for the purpose by which they were used and the system was so slick that a the Co-Angler in the boat wouldn't and didn't even notice anything suspicious. On bass fishing message boards I have seen it documented that this guy has won thousands upon thousands of dollars in tournaments over the past several years and from what I understand he has been a highly successful tournament fisherman for more than a decade. I think all of that "success" gets called into question. I think he needs to come clean about the scope of his cheating and should at a minimum pay back entry fees of all the anglers he has defrauded over the years. Short of that I hope there is enough grounds and legal standing for civil liability to force the issue if he isn't forthcoming.
My final thought is that Mike Hart seems to have been a very very good fishermen seemingly without "the need" to cheat to do well for himself. The cheating on top of that, however, would often be enough to push him over the top from an OK finish, right into where the big money comes into play because of the way tournament dollars are allocated in a top heavy manor. This gets us back to my second point in that I think he owes a lot of people their money back. I don't know Mike Hart's financial situation but I hope he can afford to be "generous" in his contrition. If not, bankruptcy isn't too large a price. You have to feel for his wife and family, but that is true for all innocent familial relations of criminals.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
That's A Lot of accidents!!!
Minnesota has a closed season for largemouth and smallmouth bass and according to MN fishing regulations "You may not intentionally fish for any species during it's closed season." As you may know I hold this law in contempt.
Anyway I had a thought the other day, that touches on this issue.
I wonder just how many bass are caught in Minnesota by accident before the bass season opens? I think the number is probably is probably well over 100,000 and could conceivably be more than a million bass getting caught accidentally in the closed season.
The question then occurred to me, when something becomes a frequent occurrence at what point does it stop becoming an "accident" and instead enter the realm of being an expectation?
I think it is not so much an accident but instead is more of an expectation that out of season bass will be caught while fishing for panfish in the Spring. For instance when I fish at the GOMH for crappies I would be shocked if some bass were not mixed in with the crappies; It is the nature of the location both species are there schooled together. Growing up fishing for crappies on Sylvia/Twin lake in Wright County it was the exact same thing. You never knew if the next bite was a bass, crappie, or sunfish. I am sure there probably are places where you do not have such intense intermingling of species such as these examples. For instance the North end of West Rush Lake in Chisago County comes to mind. For some reason the panfish load in thick on that North end, but bass not so much.
If it can be established that it is an expectation that closed season bass will be caught by people after panfish than it is an awfully thin line that separates legal fishing from the illegal fishing of intentionally fishing for a species during it's closed season. If there is an expectation of something happening, than I would say there IS an intention to see that thing happen if you are engaging in the activity that brings the expectation. When you intentionally go fishing for bass there is always the expectation that you will catch them, whether you do or not.
Is it really possible to have an expectation about catching fish, without the intent too?
Anyway I had a thought the other day, that touches on this issue.
I wonder just how many bass are caught in Minnesota by accident before the bass season opens? I think the number is probably is probably well over 100,000 and could conceivably be more than a million bass getting caught accidentally in the closed season.
The question then occurred to me, when something becomes a frequent occurrence at what point does it stop becoming an "accident" and instead enter the realm of being an expectation?
I think it is not so much an accident but instead is more of an expectation that out of season bass will be caught while fishing for panfish in the Spring. For instance when I fish at the GOMH for crappies I would be shocked if some bass were not mixed in with the crappies; It is the nature of the location both species are there schooled together. Growing up fishing for crappies on Sylvia/Twin lake in Wright County it was the exact same thing. You never knew if the next bite was a bass, crappie, or sunfish. I am sure there probably are places where you do not have such intense intermingling of species such as these examples. For instance the North end of West Rush Lake in Chisago County comes to mind. For some reason the panfish load in thick on that North end, but bass not so much.
If it can be established that it is an expectation that closed season bass will be caught by people after panfish than it is an awfully thin line that separates legal fishing from the illegal fishing of intentionally fishing for a species during it's closed season. If there is an expectation of something happening, than I would say there IS an intention to see that thing happen if you are engaging in the activity that brings the expectation. When you intentionally go fishing for bass there is always the expectation that you will catch them, whether you do or not.
Is it really possible to have an expectation about catching fish, without the intent too?
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Bassmaster Classic: The Dream That Never Was
During this past Bassmaster Classic week I heard several different fishermen from Federation anglers to Elite Series pro's express the notion that fishing in the Bassmaster Classic was a lifetime "dream come true." A couple of times I heard it said that fishing in the Bassmaster Classic is the dream of all tournament bass fisherman. I must be an odd case then, because I can't say that fishing in the Bassmaster Classic has ever been one of my aspirations.
Growing up my family had a cabin on Lake Sylvia/Twin (now East & West Sylvia) near Annandale in Wright County Minnesota, which is about an hour and a half NW of Minneapolis; The two lakes are prolific largemouth bass fisheries. I was taught to fish at a very early age by my Dad, Grandmother Maas, and my Mom. Dad was my main fishing tutor and while he liked to fish, he was not overly serious about the sport, more of a casual weekend warrior type. Dad was much more serious about cars and Ham radio. Our fishing boat was late 1960's 14 ft Alumacraft with bench seats and a 5.5 horse Johnson motor. We also had a pontoon boat we would use for fishing. However, most of my early fishing was done off of our or our neighbors docks.
Of my 3 brothers and me, I was basically the only one to be badly afflicted with the fishing bug. I have just always loved to fish and we were up at the cabin frequently in the summer, so I got to go fishing often and as I grew older my love for fishing just grew and grew. My first exposure to fishing outside my family came from TV shows by Virgil Ward, Roland Martin, and Bill Dance. My first exposure to the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society probably came from commercials while watching fishing shows, but I also distinctly remember looking at Bassmaster Magazine at the Barber Shop in Annandale when I was probably around 8 years old. I remember thinking B.A.S.S. was the coolest thing and I wanted to join, but my parents didn't pursue it for me. I don't know when I was first made aware of tournament bass fishing, but I don't think it was until I was a teenager that I ever heard about the Bassmaster Classic and the information I heard about it was pretty scant. When it came to fishing I was much more interested in learning how to catch fish than I was interested in hearing about tournaments.
It wasn't until I was out of college and in my early twenties that I gave much thought to tournament bass fishing. In the 90's Lake Minnetonka used to be the site of a prestigious bass tournament called the Don Shelby US Invitational that drew in some of the big names of B.A.S.S.. The "Shelby" had a $50,000 top prize, which was big for those days. I was just astonished by how big a sack of bass it took to do well in that tournament. Sylvia/Twin is a peanut factory where 3lb and up fish are rare, and these guys were bringing in sacks with close to or over a 4lb average per fish. Also for the first time in my life I had cable TV and so I could watch the Bassmasters TV Show and I think I joined B.A.S.S. in 1993. In 1995 I went to see my first weigh-in ever at the Bassmaster Top 100 that was held on Lake Minnetonka.
I did not fish in my first bass tournament until 2 years later in 1997 when I was 27 years old; That summer I fished as a non-boater in 2 Military Bass Angler (now ABA) at Clearwater Lake in Wright County. I got skunked in my first tournament but did manage to catch a couple of fish on my second try. Looking back at it now, I had very little clue as to what I was getting myself into when I fished those tournaments, but despite the poor results I did enjoy myself and wasn't all that discouraged. In 1998 I joined The Fishers of Men Fishing Club (Twin Cities) which is just a fishing club, not a bass fishing club. It was not until I was 31 when I started fishing bass tournaments with any seriousness.
I think because I wasn't brought up with it and didn't start tournament fishing until well into adulthood is probably why the Bassmasters Classic for me is the dream that never was.
Growing up my family had a cabin on Lake Sylvia/Twin (now East & West Sylvia) near Annandale in Wright County Minnesota, which is about an hour and a half NW of Minneapolis; The two lakes are prolific largemouth bass fisheries. I was taught to fish at a very early age by my Dad, Grandmother Maas, and my Mom. Dad was my main fishing tutor and while he liked to fish, he was not overly serious about the sport, more of a casual weekend warrior type. Dad was much more serious about cars and Ham radio. Our fishing boat was late 1960's 14 ft Alumacraft with bench seats and a 5.5 horse Johnson motor. We also had a pontoon boat we would use for fishing. However, most of my early fishing was done off of our or our neighbors docks.
Of my 3 brothers and me, I was basically the only one to be badly afflicted with the fishing bug. I have just always loved to fish and we were up at the cabin frequently in the summer, so I got to go fishing often and as I grew older my love for fishing just grew and grew. My first exposure to fishing outside my family came from TV shows by Virgil Ward, Roland Martin, and Bill Dance. My first exposure to the Bass Anglers Sportsman Society probably came from commercials while watching fishing shows, but I also distinctly remember looking at Bassmaster Magazine at the Barber Shop in Annandale when I was probably around 8 years old. I remember thinking B.A.S.S. was the coolest thing and I wanted to join, but my parents didn't pursue it for me. I don't know when I was first made aware of tournament bass fishing, but I don't think it was until I was a teenager that I ever heard about the Bassmaster Classic and the information I heard about it was pretty scant. When it came to fishing I was much more interested in learning how to catch fish than I was interested in hearing about tournaments.
It wasn't until I was out of college and in my early twenties that I gave much thought to tournament bass fishing. In the 90's Lake Minnetonka used to be the site of a prestigious bass tournament called the Don Shelby US Invitational that drew in some of the big names of B.A.S.S.. The "Shelby" had a $50,000 top prize, which was big for those days. I was just astonished by how big a sack of bass it took to do well in that tournament. Sylvia/Twin is a peanut factory where 3lb and up fish are rare, and these guys were bringing in sacks with close to or over a 4lb average per fish. Also for the first time in my life I had cable TV and so I could watch the Bassmasters TV Show and I think I joined B.A.S.S. in 1993. In 1995 I went to see my first weigh-in ever at the Bassmaster Top 100 that was held on Lake Minnetonka.
I did not fish in my first bass tournament until 2 years later in 1997 when I was 27 years old; That summer I fished as a non-boater in 2 Military Bass Angler (now ABA) at Clearwater Lake in Wright County. I got skunked in my first tournament but did manage to catch a couple of fish on my second try. Looking back at it now, I had very little clue as to what I was getting myself into when I fished those tournaments, but despite the poor results I did enjoy myself and wasn't all that discouraged. In 1998 I joined The Fishers of Men Fishing Club (Twin Cities) which is just a fishing club, not a bass fishing club. It was not until I was 31 when I started fishing bass tournaments with any seriousness.
I think because I wasn't brought up with it and didn't start tournament fishing until well into adulthood is probably why the Bassmasters Classic for me is the dream that never was.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
BP on Dogfish (Bowfin) Fishing
First a Little History: When I was young, even into being a teenager, dogfish freaked me out; I actually had nightmares about them and carp. One time I caught a 3 pounder in the "Back Bay" at our lake cabin on Sylvia/Twin. The Back Bay is a muck bottomed boat channel that was on the back side of our property. The Back Bay always seemed to have a dogfish or two roaming around. Growing up we considered dogfish a trash fish and would kill every one of them we caught. I netted this 3lb dogfish so as not to touch it and removed the hook with pliers. I then took the dogfish about 20feet up the shore onto the edge of the road and left it there to die. About 15 minutes later I heard something in the grass by the water. Sure enough it was this dogfish slithering like a snake back to the water. I did nothing to try and stop it, I was totally freaked out.
Another time when I was a little older I was fishing out of a boat on one of my favorite spots on Twin Lake that I call "My Island." It is a shallow weedy and sandy spot that holds bass and the occasional dogfish. I don't know what the deal was but this five pound dogfish surfaced about 8 feet out from where I was standing in the boat. I swear this dogfish was staring me down. After about 45 seconds the dogfish accelerated straight ahead and rammed itself smack dab into the side of the boat right at my feet. I was both shocked, freaked, and slightly amused, what a crazy fish!
As I got a little older and became more mature as a fisherman I lost my fear of the things but I didn't like catching them much. They can be tackle destroyers and can be unruly to get off the hook if you don't play them out before you land them. (TIP: Always play dogfish out for a few minutes before you try and land them) Sometimes I would throw them back and sometimes I would kill them.
Epiphany: In June of 2003 I fished a Minnesota Pro/am bass tournament on Leech Lake as an amateur. I drew Joel Stokka, former Tournament Director for Excel Bass, as my partner and we prefished together. While we were prefishing we spotted a big dogfish. Joel immediately tried to hook into this monster, but was unable to do it before the fish swam away. I inquired to why he wanted to catch that thing and he told me all about the Minnesota Bowfin Club and their annual Bowfin Tournament. Joel said Spring dogfish angling was a great way to legally use your bass gear before the bass season opened. I had never thought of that before and after a little reflection my viewpoint on the value of dogfish was transformed.
My First Minnesota Bowfin Club Grand Championship: I decided that in the spring of 2004 that I would try and win the MBC Grand Championship and for the first time in my life started fishing for dogfish on purpose. One day in mid-may of 2004, after the MN fishing opener but before the bass opener, I went fishing for pike and dogfish with a trusty white spinnerbait with white colorado blades and a white pork trailer. I was fishing in "Loon Sex Bay" when a big dogfish struck and rocked my world. This 30 inch fish put on an excellent fight, but I was able to net it. This was by far the biggest dogfish I had ever caught in my life and it was full of eggs to make it that much fatter. On my Rapala spring scale it weighed in at 9.5lbs. I registered it with MNBC and sure enough it was the 2004 Tournament Winner.
Second MN Bowfin Club Grand Championship: In 2006 I regained the title of Minnesota Bowfin Grand Champion and became the Clubs first two time Champion. On April 26th I headed to Mille Lacs lake to do a little crappie and dogfish fishing. I knew a little spot in Isle Bay that had held dogfish in the Spring. I had seen them in there while fishing for Crappie on a couple of different occasions. I call this spot "Dogfish Nirvana." I headed into the little cut and sure enough I spotted a big dogfish just sitting there. I threw a white jig with white pork trailer right next to it and hopped it a couple of times. Sure enough it struck and I hooked it. In the cold water this Dogfish did not put up a fight and I quickly landed it. This fish measured 30 inches just like my first MN Bowfin Club Grand Championship winner. The fish was not as fat and probably weighed less than 9lbs. I didn't have a camera with me, so I did not get a picture of the fish. It was a dark one with a white scar at the tip of it's snout. I registered the fish and it won the 2006 tournament.
Fishing for Dogfish: Being a two time Bowfin Grand Champion I suppose that makes me some sort of expert at the pursuit of dogfish. However, There is a lot I don't know about them and I get skunked more times than I catch them. Here are my tips:
In the winter I know dogfish hold on fairly shallow weed flats where the water has just a little more depth to it than the surrounding area. In the spring dogfish can be found in the same dark bottom bays that hold panfish, bass, and pike. I think the dogfish are in those area's feeding up and soaking in the warmer water just like all the other fish. . Old weed growth and emerging weed growth are things to look for. I don't think dogfish are very active until the water temp is over 50°F and the warmer the water the more active they get. I think the peak time to get into dogfish is when the water temps get into the 60's. I think that once you find a spot that holds dogfish you can count on it to draw them in year after year.
In water that is sub 50°F the best way to fish for dogfish is to sight fish them with a white colored bass jig or big black worm or tube. The dogfish will sun themselves in fairly shallow water around old weed growth at this time. They are not apt to chase, so looking for them on sunny calm days is best. At all times during the spring, summer, and fall sightfishing is a great technique because dogfish get big and their dark bodies can stick out in clear water.
Once water warms up into the 50's you are as likely to catch them blind fishing as sight fishing. I recommend using white or pink colors. Spinnerbaits, swim jigs, jerkbaits, buzzbaits, and Spooks are all good choices. One thing I like to do is to cover water with topwaters or by "bulging" a spinnerbait or swim jig looking for a dogfish to make a wake while in pursuit of the lure. Once you find one you know where it lives and can work it over with fast and slow presentations.
After the 2009 Season it seems another excellent dogfish lure is a black and red bass jig with a black and red jig trailer. In 2009 I caught 2 dogfish on this combination while blind casting including one that would have won the 2009 Minnesota Bowfin Club Grand Championship, but I caught it on June 16th a day after the tournament deadline. One nice thing about a bass jig is they tend to be able to hold up under the pressure of a big dogfish.
That is pretty much the the extent of what I know about how to catch them.
The Critics: Fishing for dogfish in the Spring with artificial lures is not without it's controversy. Minnesota has closed seasons for Bass and Pike well into May and there is a regulation that states: "You may not intentionally fish for any species during its closed season." There are a number of people who consider dogfish fishing to be total BS and a automatic violation of the prohibition against intentionally fishing for bass and pike (mainly bass) in their closed seasons. I have argued with these critics in online fishing message boards. Not only do I fish for dogfish, but I question the very validity of a fishing regulation that I believe to be seriously flawed. This absolutely drives some people nuts and I have been called quite a few names.
Here is the thought process of one of the more thoughtful critics:
Are there any lakes that have a fishable population of dogfish?
I'm all about giving people the benefit of the doubt. But I cant stand it when people fish for "dogfish" and happen to catch 20 bass and no dogfish. It bugs the tar out of me...
I respond that any body of water that contains dogfish has a "fishable population" just as any body of water that contains muskie has a "fishable population" of muskies. Some bodies of water have more dogfish than others or bigger sized dogfish on average than others just as some lakes have more bass than others or bigger bass on average than others. Dogfish are not some special kind of fish that is radically different from the rest. However, dogfish are more like a muskie than they are like a pike or a bass or panfish. Pike and bass tend to be a more prolific species than a dogfish or muskie thus it is easier to catch bass and pike than it is to catch muskies and dogfish. There are plain and simply many more bass and pike swimming around than there are dogfish and muskies. I have at times caught both bass and pike nearly cast after cast but I have never had anything close to that happening with muskie or dogfish.
I would maintain that angling for dogfish is a lot like angling for muskie. If you catch 1 in a day you have done great. If you catch two or more in a day than you have done phenomenal. Obviously things are much different for the prolific bass; One bass in a day of fishing is considered to be quite slow and extremely poor fishing.
There is at least one big difference between muskie fishing and dogfish fishing and that is in the baits best used to pursue the quarry. "Legal" muskies are big fish that often require big baits that will select against most smaller fish striking them. Meanwhile dogfish are more modest sized fish and are most efficiently pursued with baits that are symmetrically equal to lures that select for largemouth bass. This is the fact that fixates the critics. Dogfish techniques are the exact same as bass techniques and dogfish lures are bass lures. I'm sure to make matter worse in the eyes of critic dogfish location overlaps pretty much perfectly with bass location. If you are going to catch a dogfish, you are most certainly going to catch many more bass than dogfish in the process due to the simple biological realities. The critics pretty much believe these facts prove dogfish fishing is nothing more than a thinly veiled cover for fishing for bass out of season and thus dogfish fishing is de facto breaking the law.
The big problem with that theory is that dogfish fishing is 100% legal according to MN state fishing regulations. If you are a licenced angler the pursuit of dogfish, which have no closed season, is 100% with in your legal rights. If your intent is to catch a dogfish than any bass you catch in the process is an incidental catch and temporarily permitted under the law. How many bass you catch or don't catch incidentally or how many dogfish you catch or don't catch doesn't change that fishing for dogfish is absolutely allowed under the fishing regulations. The thoughtful critic referenced above goes on to succinctly state: "Rules are Rules, if you don't like them.. tough!" The rules about fishing for dogfish are clear, they have no closed season and so fishing for them is perfectly legal.
It's no secret that I don't like the fatally flawed regulation about angler intent and closed season fish. The refrain that I have heard from my critics on that matter is that if I don't like the law, than I should get it changed. Well I think the critics on the matter of dogfish fishing are in that same boat. If you don't like dogfish fishing than get the law changed so that dogfish have the same season as bass. But hey, why can't they just let the rules be the rules. I have a better suggestion, instead of trying to get a dogfish season that aligns with bass it makes more sense to just open bass up to catch and release fishing when they are not in season. CATCH AND RELEASE FISHING DOES NOT HARM THE RESOURCE IN ANY MEANINGFUL WAY!!! Get this kind of regulation passed and we can both be happy.
Update: Cyberfish is trying to take some credit for my conversion on dogfish. Funny but I don't remember any of that. What I do remember is Cyberfish trying to convince me about the merits of catching big ole carp. I have never really bought into his enthusiasm on that subject. Carp just don't annihilate a lure like a dogfish can.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
The real Bass Poachers
Today is the 2007 MN bass opener, the day that the annointed self righteous sportsman of the world stop complaining about those that they perceive as fishing for bass during the closed season. The bitch fest happens every year on FishingMinnesota.com, which I have documented on my blogs.
In addition to following the whining and complaining this spring I have kept a close eye on the DNR Conservation Officer Reports. From following these reports I've learned that people keeping bass out of season is a fairly common infraction with which people are getting caught. I would bet a dollar to donuts that most of these lawbreakers are really fishing for fish that are in season and get the bass as an incidental catch, but the temptation to keep all that meat is just to much.
How much talk do these poachers get every spring? NONE
How much talk should they get. Well from the frequency of the infractions I would think this would be on top of the annointed self righteous sportsman's radar. This is just one more reason for me to hold these "do gooders" in contempt.
In addition to following the whining and complaining this spring I have kept a close eye on the DNR Conservation Officer Reports. From following these reports I've learned that people keeping bass out of season is a fairly common infraction with which people are getting caught. I would bet a dollar to donuts that most of these lawbreakers are really fishing for fish that are in season and get the bass as an incidental catch, but the temptation to keep all that meat is just to much.
How much talk do these poachers get every spring? NONE
How much talk should they get. Well from the frequency of the infractions I would think this would be on top of the annointed self righteous sportsman's radar. This is just one more reason for me to hold these "do gooders" in contempt.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
BP's Philosophy of MN Closed Bass Season
For those unaware, Minnesocold has a time from late February to late May, when it is illegal to not only keep, but even fish for largemouth and smallmouth Bass. The Minnesota regulation for fish "out of season" is this:
You may not intentionally fish for any species during its closed season.
Updated to add: The actual rule/law is 6262.0100 GENERAL RESTRICTIONS ON TAKING FISH Subp. 5.B Possession of fish while on state waters, which says:
"A person shall not angle for, including catch-and-release, or reduce to possession any species during its closed season."
I have all kinds of issues with this particular regulation.
#1 I think it is immoral for the state to make catch and release fishing with artificial baits illegal
I do not believe the state has a compelling interest in prohibiting catch and release fishing. Catch and release fishing has proven itself not to be harmful to a fisheries resource. If there is no harm done than the state should not be able to regulate against the activity, PERIOD! This regulation is a very mild form of tyranny that prohibits the God given freedom and rights of man.
#2 Any law or regulation that depends upon a subjectively derived "intent" for enforcement when it could use an objectively arrived at standard is bad law.
In other words, this law should not be allowed on the basis that it is vague. If the state is going to by default ban certain fishing techniques than they should be named, not left to be guessed at. Sure the regulation book would get bigger, but it would also get better because the CO would then have something that could be specifically and objectively enforced. To ban specific lures would show in fine detail that the regulation is indeed heavy handed and overly restrictive of an anglers freedom.
#3 The problem of cross species "targeting."
FYI-In Minnesocold this regulation is often paraphrased thus: "It is illegal to target an out of season fish."
Now any fisherman worth half his weight in twister tails and tube baits knows that fish of all shapes and sizes will bite a variety of the same baits. I've caught panfish on bass spinnerbaits, crankbaits, plastics and jigs. I guarantee that bass will bite on every lure designed to catch panfish; Add to this another fact any fisherman will know about how fish of all shapes and sizes will share the same habitat. Thus in the general area where there will be panfish there will be bass and where there are bass there will be panfish.
These two facts together bring us to the inescapable conflict that fishing for fish that are "in season" means you will catch out of season fish whether you intentionally try to or not. Still some people insist on the artificial notion that you can "target" your species outside of sight fishing for individual fish. The regulation is based on an angling lie that defies common sense and experience. If you intend to catch panfish you will undoubtedly catch bass as well. Therefore, everyone who fishes for panfish is in reality also targeting bass albeit for catch and release purposes. The logic of this reality is inescapable.
Caveat: Now it is true that you are more likely to catch a bass on a 1/2oz jig than a sunfish or crappie, but it is not necessarily more likely that you will catch a crappie or sunfish on a 1/32oz jig than a bass.
#4 As long as you are fishing for a species that is in season than it is allowable that you can catch and release fish that are not in season.
Point #4 follows on the heals of point #3. If targeting legal fish than one is allowed to catch fish that are not in season all one wants and still be fishing within the law. This is a loop-hole that shows the law is absurd on it's face. During the Bass closed season it is completely legal to intentionally fish for panfish and roughfish including dogfish. After the 2nd weekend of May a licensed angler can also intentionally fish for pike, and walleye. If you target a legal species and you catch bass as a "side effect" than your angling is on the up and up, otherwise all anglers fishing during the bass closed season are guilty of breaking the law.
#5 It is an economic injustice that fishermen of means can fish bass legally in the river or other states, while the fisherman without means is stuck without remedy for being able to angle bass.
The argument is made that fishing for bass out of season is inexcusable because other options exist for fishing bass legally by visiting the river where there is no closed season or other states where bass season is open. Obviously not everyone has an equal opportunity to take advantage of the other options due to financial concerns. The law should avoid creating such inequalities if possible and in this case the remedy is possible without negatively effecting the natural resource.
In summary I have 5 reason's why I find this regulation to be bogus.
Because of this regulation the conversation starts again every year. The self appointed defenders of all that is holy writ in Minnesocold Fishing Law get on their moral hobby horse and condemn all those that would defy the law as they see it.
...As the season gets closer to opener More and More boats and more and more fisher People Are fishing for Bass. (I’M TALKING ABOUT THE WALLEYE OPENER NOT THE BASS OPENER!!!!).how do they call themselves sports men in one breath and a outlaw in there actions . what is the boards view on Targeting fish that are out of season?
THANKS
Chisago Docksitter
My response to the Docksitter is that he should mind his own business and let other people mind their own business in return. A sportsman will do what he can to see this bad law changed. Those who know my history know this bass fishing out of season controversy is what contributed to the Banned Pastor, BP designation, as well as other various creative name calling.
The genesis of my passion for this issue goes back to me being falsely accused and harassed by some jerk when I was fishing for northern pike, not bass. My beliefs on the issue have evolved and strengthened the more I have thought about it.
Do I Cheat the Law?
I speed from time to time.
Ohh, you meant "do I intentionally fish for bass out of season?"
If a tree falls in a forest and there is no one there to hear it, did it make a sound? Unless I say something is my intent and actually mean it, there is no way to objectively gauge what my intent actually is on the matter. You will NEVER here me say that my intent is to catch a bass during it's closed season.
Also I do believe non-violent "civil disobedience" is a proper response in redress of bad government in an otherwise worthwhile governing system.
In addition to those considerations, at all times in the Spring while fishing during the bass closed season I have the very deliberate intent to catch a species that is legally in season whether that be panfish or dogfish. I believe this fact settles the issue once and for all. In reality I do not "cheat the law," because I am FISHING LEGALLY.
The only issue with some resonance from FM.com
The genesis of my passion for this issue goes back to me being falsely accused and harassed by some jerk when I was fishing for northern pike, not bass. My beliefs on the issue have evolved and strengthened the more I have thought about it.
Do I Cheat the Law?
I speed from time to time.
Ohh, you meant "do I intentionally fish for bass out of season?"
If a tree falls in a forest and there is no one there to hear it, did it make a sound? Unless I say something is my intent and actually mean it, there is no way to objectively gauge what my intent actually is on the matter. You will NEVER here me say that my intent is to catch a bass during it's closed season.
Also I do believe non-violent "civil disobedience" is a proper response in redress of bad government in an otherwise worthwhile governing system.
In addition to those considerations, at all times in the Spring while fishing during the bass closed season I have the very deliberate intent to catch a species that is legally in season whether that be panfish or dogfish. I believe this fact settles the issue once and for all. In reality I do not "cheat the law," because I am FISHING LEGALLY.
The only issue with some resonance from FM.com
It's not fair that the majority of us follow regulations
It is to some degree true that those who fish for bass before the season opens are doing something that is unfair to all other anglers. What they are doing is educating the fish which makes them harder for others to catch. Of coarse that means it's making them harder to catch for meat fisherman. Also fish that can be educated are desirable stock for the future of a fishery as well as for the section of the economy based on fishing. This issue is at best a push when larger questions are considered.
FYI-Permission is granted for anyone who wants to copy and paste this response all or in part to the WHAT ARE Sportsmen to do ? thread at FM.com
Now I must get back to my hunt for the state record dogfish.
Appendix FM: (A compilation of FishingMinnesota.com bulletin board threads on this topic that is if I can ever re-find the links now that the board has been changed and everything has a new url. Much of the time "Anonymous" is the Banned Pastor but not always)
"RE: Largemouth Bass"
"Whats With All The Talk About Fishing Out Of Season" (10 pages of comments)
Regulations... clarification?FishingMinnesota.com archives (I didn't actually participate in this thread where I was slandered)
"To bad all people who fish don’t have that attitude."
You don't like my attitude and I don't care for the attitude of the self-righteous chumps that presume a person is breaking the law or doing something wrong when they are not.
Did you see the thread "Basspoacher tries to strike again." Same place, same baits, same time of day and all I got was those crummy Crappies and Sunnies some of which I kept to eat (Yum Yum). Fishing is that way a lot of times and people who accuse others for "targeting" out season need to be a little more liberal with how they regard what is proper and what is not. People have gone out of their way to accuse me of breaking the law and being unethical so I go out of my way to be provocative on this issue to piss you Pharisees off.
When someones intent is to catch fish period and would be as happy with a bass as a crappie does not mean they are breaking the law or doing anything wrong. Cyb had a blast catching all those bass, but was disappointed that he didn't get any nice crappies or bigger gills. Had he fished the same spot a week later it looks as if the results would have been different from what I caught.
That's fishing.
excerpt from Keeping BASS Dilemma Fishing Minnesota archives (4 pages)
How many more days till the Bass opener?? (thread has 11pages, many of which contain BP posts.)
Seasonal Ethics
FYI-Permission is granted for anyone who wants to copy and paste this response all or in part to the WHAT ARE Sportsmen to do ? thread at FM.com
Now I must get back to my hunt for the state record dogfish.
Appendix FM: (A compilation of FishingMinnesota.com bulletin board threads on this topic that is if I can ever re-find the links now that the board has been changed and everything has a new url. Much of the time "Anonymous" is the Banned Pastor but not always)
"RE: Largemouth Bass"
"Whats With All The Talk About Fishing Out Of Season" (10 pages of comments)
Regulations... clarification?FishingMinnesota.com archives (I didn't actually participate in this thread where I was slandered)
"To bad all people who fish don’t have that attitude."
You don't like my attitude and I don't care for the attitude of the self-righteous chumps that presume a person is breaking the law or doing something wrong when they are not.
Did you see the thread "Basspoacher tries to strike again." Same place, same baits, same time of day and all I got was those crummy Crappies and Sunnies some of which I kept to eat (Yum Yum). Fishing is that way a lot of times and people who accuse others for "targeting" out season need to be a little more liberal with how they regard what is proper and what is not. People have gone out of their way to accuse me of breaking the law and being unethical so I go out of my way to be provocative on this issue to piss you Pharisees off.
When someones intent is to catch fish period and would be as happy with a bass as a crappie does not mean they are breaking the law or doing anything wrong. Cyb had a blast catching all those bass, but was disappointed that he didn't get any nice crappies or bigger gills. Had he fished the same spot a week later it looks as if the results would have been different from what I caught.
That's fishing.
excerpt from Keeping BASS Dilemma Fishing Minnesota archives (4 pages)
How many more days till the Bass opener?? (thread has 11pages, many of which contain BP posts.)
Seasonal Ethics
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