“Raise your glass to the hard working people…”
Dateline: Point Sebago, Lake Sebago, Maine
I’m drinking sweet tea and eating cubed watermelon from Wal-mart.
A bag of Rollo’s sits in reserve in my backpack.
I woke up at 4:30am to stand in 42-degree fog in sandals, my left big toe has stopped talking to me. Yesterday I sent in a photoessay from inside my Tundra which was parked under some sort of huge pine tree thing while most of the time a duck squatted on the truck’s hood.
It was the only spot I could get on the internet, I wasn’t giving it up to a duck.
Got the web, and webbed footprints all over the truck.
Duck won today, he got the tree I got the empty sales office at Point Sebago, all web, no footprints.
I’m at the B.A.S.S. Nation Eastern Divisional, 9 teams from 7 states and 2 countries. One-hundred or so anglers battling for one spot.
The spot…the Bassmaster Classic on Lake Guntersville, Alabama this upcoming February. One of the anglers out on the lake right now will be in the Bassmaster Classic.
They just don’t know it yet.
It is the people you never really hear from, that is the symphony of this planet.
All those folks on TV, in the news, they’re just noise, the music of earth, is quiet, soft, humble, and in more harmony with you than you may think.
News brings you the percussion section, I want you to hear to the strings. Not the front man, but the chorus.
Not the shouts,
but the whispers.
It was the whispers, that began America.
“…say a prayer for the common foot soldier…”