It was a cool, breezy, Summer day in June of 1994. The temperature was a pleasant 82 degrees. This day presented the perfect conditions for baitin' up a hook with a plump and juicy earth-worm...or a night-crawler or some green worms or any other number of dirt-dwelling invertebrates and casting a line into the muddy depths of the Bessie Tonka River. Hell, maybe if your Pop had been working extra shifts at the Carlyle Industries you just might have found yourself with a container full of stink-bait. And if he finally got that raise he'd been prayin' for at the church, you might have even woke up with some chicken liver next to your pillow accompanied by a nearly illegible note informing you: "I gotta work 19 hours t'dee so you go on an' get some fishin' in. Don't fergitt!" A boy of twelve emerged onto Main Street from Larson's General Store with a Mountain Dew Big Slam in his right hand. His name was Murray Tinklewater. This is the life, tho...
(now known as The Riverside Times)