Ring, ring… the number you
have diahled, is not in service at this time, pulease che- click. Ring, rin-
“hello?” “Hi Dad!” “Well hello Gary. How are ya doing?” “I’m fine. I just want
to call to wish you a happy Fathers Day, and tell you how much I love you.”
Well, thank you very much. I love you too.” “How are you?” “O.K. for an older
gentleman, thank you.” “Neither of us can ask for much more than that, Dad.
Yesterday Rose and I went to see a reconstruction of an eighteenth century French
frigate. All that tarred rigging reminded me of Don Holgate’s boat shop.” “Oh
yes, with Honkey Clark and Dan Feiler, not the best engine mechanic I’ve ever
met, though Honkey may have been the best blue fisherman I’ve ever met.” “I
really miss you, Dad. You were the best blue fisherman I ever met, and
certainly the best blind pilotage navigator.” “Oh, I know what you’re talking
about; that Block Island trip in that very nasty fog. I miss you, too, Gary,
but all the pain is gone, and the blue fish are hitting the menhaden on the
surface every day, close enough to cast at ‘em from shore. You can’t beat that.
I don’t know where you got this number, son. This phone has never rung before, in the entire time
that I have been here. Lots of folks have wondered what it’s for. Maybe it’s
just for us to talk on Fathers Day. It’s been wonderful hearing your voice. I
love you, but I have to go. The blues usually start hitting about now. They
have nothing but light tackle up here. Spinning and fly rods. Bye now.” “Bye Dad.
I love you too.” Click
