Meet Brenden...

 Today I'd like to introduce to what I like to refer to as the goof of the bunch. This kid is quick with some off the wall wise crack regardless of the situation.

Brenden is 14-years-old and has some really big hopes and dreams. Here while back he was talking about applying for a part-time job at McDonalds. Hey, a kid's gotta start somewhere, right?

Anyway, I asked him if he'd ever heard back from them and he told me he had but they said he wasn't qualified for the job. 

Not qualified? But Brenden, McDonald's hires and trains thousands of kids every year. He said he understood that but he had applied for a managers position.

He want's to take advanced math classes in school to help prepare himself for when he goes to work for NASA.

I remember when I was looking for my first can as a kid I was looking for $200 and $300 jewels. Granted, that was a long time ago.

Not Brenden, he's looking at new car ads on his phone. In his way of thinking there's no reason he should buy something somebody else either didn't want or had so many problems with they got rid of it. 

He does have a point but he also completely glosses over the fact that he has zero visible means of actually paying for one.

And that my friends is why I say the kid has big hopes and dreams and also why I refer to him as a goof.

Brenden's a good kid, he's a lot of help out on the river, and a vital part of this little club of ours...

Kevin McGinty

Introducing the charter members of our little club...

 I suppose if I'm going to be talking about this little fishing club of ours I probably ought to start off by introducing you to our charter members.

I'll go ahead and start with the youngest and work my way up from there.

At 4-years-old, Jack aka Jack Attack is possibly the rowdiest of the bunch. He's a ball of fire and depending on where we're going he's usually the first one to the river of creek bank. He does have a problem staying focused on the task at hand which is supposed to be the pursuit of those elusive channel cats.

 I put a 1 oz. sinker (no hook yet) on his little fishing pole so he could practice casting it and he's actually getting pretty good at it. He's convinced he's ready for a hook and really wants to bait it himself. I'm not so sure.

It doesn't usually take all that long before he loses interest in casting his line either into the water or getting it tangled up in the bushes and he's ready to go exploring.

There's never a shortage of clam shells which have become his sea shell collection. He gets a kick out of finding an occasional snail shell. But his all time favorite and prized collection has to be the dinosaur bones he's collected along the way.

I always pack a cooler full of sodas, juices, and other assorted what nots but he prefers to chomp on the ice.

Weird kid.

For several reasons I've avoided taking his two older sisters with us, mainly because I wanted to see how Jack was going to handle it. Anyway, I asked him last week if we should take the girls along with us.

He got quiet, then he looked at me and said, "Pop-Pop" I think it'd be okay as long as they wore their life jackets in case the fall in the water.

I could be that our little fishing club will be gaining a couple new members in the coming weeks...

Kevin McGinty

Introducing the charter members of our exclusive "Fish Slayers of Northeast Kansas" club...

 Good morning boys and girls. 

A lot of things have changed since we last spoke.

For instance, in the last two years my entire view of the world and my priorities have all changed drastically.

As far as the world goes, well, there's nothing I can do to keep it from going straight to hell and to tell you the truth, I just don't give a damn anymore.

My wife and I have both had major, life altering health challenges we've had to deal with and in the last month we've become great-grandparents.

Obviously, my plan to stay young and vibrant forever has failed miserably so I've decided to spend whatever time I have left on the world of ours hanging out with my grandkids.

In the crazy world they're growing up in I want to give them something to look forward to and some day down the road something to look back on and put a smile on their faces.

I want em  to remember back when their crazy ass grandpa drug them out of bed ar 5:00 in the morning in search of those elusive channel cats he's always chasing.

I want em to remember watching the sun come up from some river bank I drug them to before the sun came up. 

I want em to remember slipping and sliding in the mud.

I want em to remember packing and unpacking the truck as we head from one fishing hole to the next.

I want em to remember the frustration of not catching anything and the excitement of finally landing a big one.

I want em to remember the dirt roads we traveled and the wild turkeys and the deer we've seen along the way.

And I want em to always remember grandpa bitching at them to put down their phones.

Yeah, I want em to remember it all.

So, every other weekend I make the rounds, pick them up and head out to whatever river or creek suits me on that particular day and make a day of it.

Sometimes we're successful and sometimes we're not.

They don't know it yet but catching those elusive channel cats really isn't really the point.

The point of the whole thing is building memories.

Because when it's all said and done material things and assorted stuff will come and go but memories, if done right can last em a lifetime...

Kevin McGinty