June 23, 2009
So I've been fishing the Truckee River quite a bit recently. I was wading down there last week trying to navigate a deeper pool of water. I decided that getting out of the water was necessary, so I found a tree root that hung above the pool and sat down.
After a few casts of my trusted lure and little response I decided to change my approach. I broke out the ol' jar of salmon eggs. My hands were numb from being in and out of the water the past hour. As I began to remove the lid from the little jar, it fell down, through my legs, through the roots and into the fast-moving river.
I should have cut my losses here. I didn't.
As a means of protection, I always keep my Blackberry in the pocket on my fishing vest that is furthest from the water. As I reached down into the stream to try and retrieve my lid, it became quickly evident that the length of my arm and fishing net was not long enough to accomplish the task.
In the following 10 minutes of struggle and pseudo-strategy, I managed to lose some more things from my pockets, an additional lid (don't ask) and soak the top pocket of my vest.
Once I realized I had endangered the phone, I pulled the battery to prevent any further damage. It was the first time this summer I was going home having not caught anything, and losing $20 of tackle.
When I got home I was pretty bummed. I looked online and saw the best remedy for my predicament was placing the phone in a bowl of uncooked rice. I also noticed a flurry of information on Twitter about Iran and someone named Neda. I spent the next hour learning about the election and the rioting. I found the video of Neda, (which I recommend for mature audiences only) a young woman and innocent bystander of a riot in Iran. I began to feel empathy...and shamefully selfish for caring about such a trivial loss in light of watching a father cry out his daughter's name as her life slipped away, taken by a stray bullet.
My phone suddenly didn't matter anymore.
I once again had lost perspective, and instead of bemoaning my stupid phone, I spent sometime praying for another country that is in desperate need of peace.
How quickly we lose sight of where we truly stand.
P.S. When I finally surrendered my rescue effort on the river and packed up my things to leave, I began the hike out in my soaked vest. Just before I crested the hill and regained view of my truck, I looked down on the ground. There, covered in dirt, was a salmon egg lid, dropped by some other angler. The irony made me laugh out loud. Oh, and the rice thing worked.
P.P.S. Pray for Iran.