I grew up in and around a bait and tackle shop business, and, consequently, learned quite a bit about fishermen “and women,” and the sport of fishing from a very young age. As the family legend goes, my grandfather decided that our small town needed a store to supply fishing goods after an excursion with my father in the nearby Hudson River one day and the realization that there was no such store around. Shortly after this, he partnered up with a friend, purchased an old abandoned barn, jacked it up, loaded it on a flatbed and placed it across the street from our town beach and boat launch onto a parcel of land he leased. He then dug up some worms, found a supplier of various fishing tackle, hung out a sign, and the town’s new bait shop was born!
That was in 1955. The business continues to operate today, although he bought out his partner, moved the location, and resold that barn before building the current brick structure on a parcel of land that was, for all intent and purposes, a swamp. One can easily verify this fact by digging down in the soil anywhere on the property for a few feet and hitting the water table – crisp, cold, Adirondack mountain stream fed water that flows beneath the land and empties into the Kaydeross Creek which lies a short distance behind the store. This creek is a trout fishermen’s dream, consisting of quiet curving pathways through thick brush and countless deep, shady pools near secret clearings of the forest which are full of native rainbow and brown trout. Beautiful fish. Smart fish. Fish that are not easily caught. That precious water flowing beneath the building became one of the secrets to the quality and longevity of the millions of minnows and other live bait that have kept anglers coming back to support the business over all these years.
As a young man, this store was my “day care”. When my parents were off at work or on errands, this was where I spent the majority of my time learning about business, my grandparents, how to catch or not catch fish and human nature in our small town. I have mentioned before my love of the slogan, the witty comment, the small wise aphorisms that exist in our world. I am sure my fondness for these things came from the people who frequented this business and would sometimes chat for what seemed like hours with my grandparents. I would stand there, or sit quietly in one of the chairs set up in the back corner, near the woodstove, trying to stay below the level of thick smoke produced by the adult’s cigarettes as they covered all the great universal topics: politics, religion, taxes, and how the lack of rain had produced easy access to some of the more remote trout havens in the Kaydeross. Few patrons actually discussed the location of their favorite fishing holes, they only mentioned the conditions within those places. Many times they did not need to say anything – they would just show up at the store carrying a stringer full of large, glimmering trout and smiling from ear to ear. My grandmother would then fetch the Poloroid Instamatic Camera and position the happy angler in front of the building for a picture or two. One of those photos would go on the “Wall of Fame” and the other would be given to the customer to bring down to the Diner, or the Paper Mill, or wherever the news about his luck would travel quickest. It was an unspoken rule that we never disclose the location of someone’s favorite fishing spot. If asked where the fish on the “Wall of Fame” had been caught, it was acceptable to name the body of water or general geographic area. For instance, we might answer “Oh, those were caught in the Hudson.” Or “Yes. They are nice trout. He got them in the Kaydeross.” Experienced patrons and anglers were well versed with this rhetoric, and knew that the key to exposing these places was not to concentrate on the fish, or the location of the catch, but to look at the person in the photo. Or to find out the car this person drove. More than one fishermen reported being followed – “tailed” on route to their most secret destinations, and many reported leading would be spies to other spots completely just to throw them off the scent of the real honey holes. I realized as I grew older that these tales of covert fishing hole conspiracies and the many stories I heard of our regular and successful customers being followed to top secret places may have been inflated if not completely fabricated – mere “fish stories” that kept an audience entertained and coming back. Remember that this was before the internet and cable t.v., in a time and place where verbal communication, most often face to face, was the primary means to transfer such gossip and “fish tales”.
My grandfather was a master at telling a tale, and he had the gift of summarizing the main point, or the lesson, or the bit of wisdom the story contained with just the right slogan. “Well,” he would say, after telling the story of the man who continually looked for new places to catch fish unsuccessfully: “wherever he went, there he was, and that was the real problem all along.” Or his summary of the families in our small town that seemed to follow the traditions of their parents, for good or ill: “The apple never does fall too far from the tree” he would quietly explain. Or one of his favorite pieces of wisdom, the one that defined his success in the many businesses he entered during his lifetime “ It’s all about getting them to take the bait.” I loved these small bits of wisdom, these simple but wonderful aphorisms about life and the world, even more so because I never fully understood what they meant until much later in life. They said so much in a concise way, and they became my values, and morals, and perspective on the world around me and the people in it.
So much of what I heard and learned from my grandparents and from the regular customers continues to prove true in my life today. It’s funny, and interesting, and ironic in many ways how our individual views and behaviors about life are formed. I gained more practical knowledge and insight into the world around me – the “real” world, during my time in the shop than I ever learned during many years of grade school. This was the knowledge that mattered – this was coming from the people who had been there- this was the stuff that would really count as I entered out on my own. At times I would role my eyes when one of my grandparents would say, for the millionth time ”That just goes to show that the early bird gets the worm.” But they were right. The early bird really does. I also would look inquisitively when they would explain that many times in life you needed to decide if it was time to “keep fishing or to cut the bait.” Now I know what they meant. I have experienced those times, and I have heard their wise counsel in my mind.
Recently I was pondering my grandfather’s words about “taking the bait”. This is the heart and soul of what fishing is. Any decent angler knows that if you are not able to get a fish to take your bait, you really should sell your equipment and take up golf. I mentioned the wise old fish in the deep pools of the Kaydeross earlier. These fish can be caught. I know because I have caught them. And it all comes down to the bait you use and the technique with which you supply this bait. Fish that have been stocked into an area after being raised in hatcheries and feed by human hands every day do not require much technique or bait selection – they just need to be hungry enough and you will probably catch them. But fish that are native to an area, especially trout from a stream, are nobody’s fool. For me, there was a twinge of guilt upon catching these miraculous, beautiful fish. Although I have always been a catch and release fisherman, I couldn’t help but feel guilty about tricking these old fish and somehow tarnishing their clean records of never having been caught. Maybe this guilt was really a fear – a “Karmic fear” that I was somehow placing myself in a situation to be caught by larger and more dubious forces with each trout I pulled out of that creek.
And, in truth, I have experienced those situations and taken the bait on countless occasions in my life since those days of fishing the Kaydeross. Some of these decisions to bite were relatively harmless “I just had to buy that shirt, or jacket, or pair of shoes because everyone else was!” And some of the times I got hooked caused a great deal more damage “I went against myself and others I love by using language, or acting a certain way, or for the money, or simply going against my core values to impress people or to be a part of a group.” I can think of many occasions where I reacted like those stocked trout, raised in hatcheries, and willing to bite at anything once the hunger set in. The one advantage I had, the saving grace and thing that would eventually cause me to reevaluate these decisions, was the wisdom I learned in the back corner of that smoky store.
I like to think that these types of places continue to exist in our world – these “schools of hard knocks,” where people congregate and exchange life lessons while younger eyes and ears listen along, but realistically I know they are rapidly declining, if not altogether extinct. I mentioned that my grandparent’s business continues to operate today, and recently I stopped by for a visit. And much to my surprise, the circle of conversation between the old, wizened fishermen had continued in my absence of many years. I was immediately transported back to that place in time when people gathered in such places for companionship, and to exchange life tales, and for something else, something deeper that lies just beyond my ability to explain it accurately to you. It involves sharing experience, and learning from others about things that really count in life, but it is much more than that. It is a feeling. And I know now that the feeling is something timeless, and priceless, and sacred. And I fear that many, if not most of our youth will never experience these important times and lessons.
Our world, and particularly our society is moving faster now – much faster – too fast, perhaps? I worry about where children today are acquiring their knowledge and viewpoints and attitudes about the world. It seems to be coming less and less from their parents and grandparents. Their elders have other priorities and responsibilities to attend to. They are busy. So maybe it is from the media around our kids – television, the internet, the constant electronic chatter and buzz around them. I hope not, but it seems logical. The media is really not good or bad, in my humble opinion, but it is definitely a business and I understand businesses. They exist to sell things to people. They chose their bait and cast their line among the general public.
And from my experience, the products and images they use as bait do not, in general, reflect any wisdom or knowledge or wise advice from the ages. In fact, the opposite seems true. What is new, and trendy, and most of all will make the most money is what we tend to see most through media images. There is no sense of community or philanthropy in the things we are biting on by choosing to buy from the media. And we are taking their bait and feeding it to our kids as a type of “drive through, quick and easy” set of morals and values because we have allowed ourselves to become too busy with greater and greater amounts of media to spend our time with. We have allowed ourselves to become the consumers of that which is not good for us, or for our families, and too often we have the nerve to scratch our collective heads and say “how did we get here? How can it be O.K. for these images, or messages, or unhealthy role models to be so much a part of our youth’s lives?” The truth is we allowed it. We invited it. We took the bait.
But enough about the problems – there are enough people pointing out the problems in the world these days. The real question is how to turn this thing around. Do we pull the proverbial plugs, start living “off the grid” and return to the days when evening entertainment and family time were centered around human interactions rather than mindless, passive, and independent time spent staring into various glowing electronic screens? Well, maybe. But first, let’s give the business people a chance. Let’s not play the part of the naïve hatchery fish any longer. We do not need to. It has just become a habit.
Instead, let’s show them all what we will accept and not accept through the power of the buck. Money does talk – especially in the business world, so the time has come for an economic revolution. Stop spending money on things that do not represent and reinforce that which you believe in. Do not allow media images or programming into your house that you think is unhealthy. Before you purchase anything, ask yourself: Am I taking the bait with this product? Are my kids? Do I know what my kids are doing, and saying, and thinking? If not, it is time to unplug for a while and find out. 2012 feels like a year of great change to me. That is the main reason I’ve blown the dust off the keyboard and starting ranting, venting, and waving my freak flag again. I invite you all to join me. Let’s get involved – let’s take charge – let’s not take the bait anymore…
we unplugged Monday and spent over two hours on the public rink in corinth, where I spent countless hours as a boy learning and honing my skills as a skater…..I’m with you farto. I enjoy reading your stuff. This article reminds me of my time spent on a small stool next to the register in the hardware store…..Good Times, thanks for reminding me….
Funny how life has a way of passing us by . I remember the worm shack , that is where honesty and commitment to work for me began . Looking back at the simple task of counting out worms seems trivial until you think about the trust your family showed me in representing them. I can honestly say now that lil bait shop is one of the things in life Im proud of. Thanks to you and your family for getting my feet in solid ground and pointing my life in the right direction . May you and your family enjoy the new year.
For some people doing the right thing, especially when people are not looking seems extraordinary at times. My forever friend who just passed away was told, Don’t pay those extreme medical and drug bills. There is an agency that will pick it up. Even when extremely sick, she said, there are others worse off than I am. I will pay as long as I can. She didn’t take the bait.