A couple of the threads running here are getting a little heated so I thought I'd share a little story to hopefully take the edge off.

Let me start by first sharing a little joke I heard from a now retired colleague.

It is no secret that as we get older err...mature our memories can sometimes be a little less than what we hope for. There is a test that can determine what stage we are at in our life with regards to our memory. There are four simple rules to consider.

• You know you are in stage 1 when you begin to forget names. I believe that I passed that stage a few years ago when I forgot my neighbor's name!
  
• When you enter stage 2 you begin to forget faces. I recently ran into someone that knew me by name but for the life of me I could not figure out who they were.
  
• In stage 3 you forget to zip up. Now, there have been times.....
  
• And finally at stage 4 you forget to zip down! The one hope we can hold on to here is that by then we probably won't really notice or care.

Speaking of stage 2. A couple years ago a friend and I were fishing on the Island Lake reservoir north of Duluth and I happened to catch a really nice crappie. He took a photo of me with my fish and then I released it.

Now at that time I had grown out my beard which had become quite grey although I didn't realize how grey. I guess I was in denial.

Anyway, about 6 months later in January we were beginning to plan our annual Canadian fishing trip. One day I received an email from him with this photograph of a grey-bearded guy holding a fish and he inserted the caption, Fishing on Island Lake. The first thought that went through my mind was, "Why did he send this picture of an old guy holding a fish?" It was then that I realized that the "old guy" was me! I didn't even recognize myself.

The beard came off that night and hasn't returned.

Bob

Hey!I resemble that and I will deny it from hear on out

Very, very Nice Thankyou BobT

I have been horrible with names for life. The golf course is a prime example. Threesome goes out and one guy, a stranger, jumps in to save the room on the course. We shake hands and introduce ourselves. As soon as the hands part, I have already forgot their name. That is pretty common in all of my "sports". I have learned to refer to everyone as "bud", or "pal", or "guy", etc. I wonder if it is the Pabst Blue Ribbon? Nah, couldn't be.

I wish my Dad would not have left his portrait behind my mirror. I just don't like him watching me shave, brush my teeth, etc. It is just like when I was much younger having him watch every move, but it seems the only time I see him now is right behind that mirror.

LOL

That reminds me of a saying that went something like this.

When I graduated high school, I just couldn't believe how little my father knew. By the time I graduated from college, I was amazed at how much he had learned!

Unfortunately for me my father passed away when I was only 26. It was after that that (too late of course) I realized how little I knew my father and how much I missed him.

Bob

The process of teenager gaining and asserting their independence from their parents is indeed a strange thing indeed. I didn't experience that with my dad as I grew up without one, but still there was the desire to break that perceived parental control/bond.

It is a bit strange how when we are young we think we have it all figured out and as we get older we realize we have very little actually figured out. Maturity and experience teach us a lot, that is if we let it.

Funny thing isn't it. The older we get the more we realize how little we really know.

Yep

Oh my god I'm in stage 3! My wife conducts a last minute inspection (Not like that) before we leave the house.

Although if you read some of our opinions on this forum, we have the answer for everything.

I guess some things just never change.

Bob

Geez Bob, my Dad passed away when I was 26 also. I got married in the fall after he passed away, moved back to MN from ND and took a different job. Flopped and quit that job after being very successful in ND, then moved a couple more times within the year. It sucked. Felt before he died we were finally really getting to know and appreciate each other. Same thing as you. While he only made it through 8th grade (a lot of farm kids in the Depression didn't make it through high school) I especially missed his knowledge, experience and advice. Still do.

You also have to remember, back in the depression, grade school went through 8th grade. Even into later years, so that is why some only went to 8th grade, after that the were supposed to join the labor force, whether on the farm or in the factories.

Different times. In Dad's case, he went to country school like many of the rural kids did at the time. Not positive because I wasn't there but think at that time, they had the option to go on to 4 more grades at this country school which my Dad wanted to do. My grandpa on the other hand saw things differently, and couldn't see the sense of continuing any further, so Dad stayed home after 8th grade. Some of his younger brothers however were allowed to go on to high school and graduate. My older brothers both went to country school too but both went on to high school in town. I just missed going to country school by a couple years. The one closest to where I grew up closed in '61 I believe.

As a weather nut, really enjoy your avatar Ude Lake Tom...

Up in the ladies site they were complaining about a lot of rain in certain areas, and they were all changing their avitars, so I found this one. Thanks.....avitars are fun. Just go to photobucket and have fun with them. Bigbartguy has had his forever, and I think his is one of the best. Peirbridge's purple and gold Farve #4 is comical. It is amazing how creative people can be with the computer.