Our nephew and his lovely wife invited us for an afternoon on their boat

and I immediately thought of The Old Man And The Sea…you know the book that Hemingway wrote.


As I lounged in the softness of my seat and felt the wind blowing through my hair…I wondered about Hemingway’s fisherman…and how he and I would compare.


We learned Santiago was an old and experienced fisherman as his story did unfold…I am not a fisherman…but like Santiago…I am old.


Santiago put in early…it was for the big catch he did wish…our boat left the dock around midday heading to a restaurant where we’d eat fish.


Santiago’s boat was a little skiff…he fished all day and all night under the moon…we were out for a few hours in a bigger boat…with a motor…and pontoons.


Santiago fought an enormous marlin…worried he’d make a mistake…without a worry we gawked at enormous houses on our leisurely ride across the lake.


Santiago fished alone…hoping the bad luck he experienced of late would come to an end…I sat there thinking how lucky I was to be surrounded by family and friends.


Santiago braved the elements…the fish…his own fatigue…the cold…Gee, I guess when I really look at it…all we have in common is that the two of us are old.


Yes, after throughly thinking this through…that’s the only comparison I can see…between my experience yesterday…and the old man and the sea.


And although Hemingway’s novel won him a Pulitzer and is, arguably, one of the finest books he wrote…I think I prefer my version of the old man in a boat.



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