Blog Post by: Karl Seckinger
- December 17, 2012 - 8:37 AM
Several years ago a woman asked me to Facebook friend her. I didn’t know her from Adam, so I sent back a message asking why she wanted to be my friend; she said she thought we shared common interests in many regards. I wrote back asking what interests those would be. She said she hunted, fished, really liked fly fishing and generally loved the outdoors. So I said yes, thinking it was no big deal, I friended her.
Yesterday she unfriended us.
From the day our electronic relationship started she has protested everything under the sun imaginable and told me as her Facebook outdoors minded friend, that I need to do the very same.
The straw that broke her camel’s back yesterday was simply this, once again she got on her high horse and was totally opposed to any and all mining.
Trying to balance the scale, possibly be polite, I wrote back, without mining, you wouldn’t have a car or a computer, that there was a lot of stuff that I felt mining added to my life, so no I couldn’t agree with her. She fired off a final salvo of nasty nouns, verbs and adjectives I won’t repeat. And then she signed off saying I was no true outdoorsman, and on and on she railed and I was history as far as she was concerned.
Now way back when, I had no idea the lady had an agenda, I just figured she was sincere in the interests of the great outdoors, and over time I kinda, in one ear, out the other, with all of her anti everything opinions.
Now a significant number of my Facebook friends, associates and sometimes at best, acquaintances, do truly share an appreciation for at times maybe only one of the outdoor pursuits and some like me, enjoy almost all of them, but we enjoy them without trying to drive everybody else nuts.
We share successful days afield with photos or quick blurbs about what’s coming up in weekends ahead and sometimes my friends from different continents share and exchange some fishing tricks.
So maybe a year ago, I was friended by yet another lady, a lady from japan, who sent me a picture of a trout fishing fly. I can’t speak one word of Japanese, she can’t speak any English, but we both know what that fishing fly means to her, and as soon as I can find a guy to tie me up a batch, I’m going to try’em next spring. Funny thing, is the hook, for the fly-tying, is made of metal. The trout whisperer