Mudville

Although named Mudville, the main character, Pinky, who could be one of many people who have meandered through our life, will bring out laughter in any with his antics and personality; Only Pinky could find it handy to have been born with a fly rod for an arm. No, sireee, wont catch me using any puny, pool-stick-of-a-fly-rod sums up how he viewed the changing world and chose to follow his own path. His essence embodies a way of living. Not bound by time or location, Pinky, finds a way to capture the spirit and essence of our childhood. Mudville is not only a place in time but a sensory memory that gets evoked when we suddenly remember a point in our lives when it was fun to have fun. Timeless and sometimes ageless, these stories strike home for all ages. They help us to go back to a simpler point when being home on time was directed by the streetlights coming on, when the only worries we had were whether the monofilament we had chosen would hold that big bass. Pinky himself sums it up best: Sometimes, if you aint good you gotta be lucky! Pinky would be along any time now, and an old, cut-off stump under an overhanging cedar limb would provide a front row seat to the show. The river glowed in the mixture of rain and intermittent moonlight. Undaunted by the shower, bats swooped and wheeled about close enough that I could feel their delicate wings brush my hat brim. The fish were still actively feeding also. An owl hooted mournfully behind me, and another answered from somewhere on the opposite bank. The stage was set. From out of the swirling mist Pinky appeared. Just a ghostly outline at first, like some spirit fisherman, forever banished to eternally wade the river.