Between a lot going on and lack of motivation, I’ve hit a wall for the first time in 3 years on my writing assignments this winter. Short on topics and ideas for February’s installment of bass class, and not sure how much longer I can keep going with this shitty-paying and time-consuming work, I thought I’d open the year with personal stories and reflections. Storytelling is a huge part of being a fishing educator. Sharing some of my past experiences for others to learn from is the joy of the job. The way I am programmed, every day I go fishing can turn into the best day ever for me. But there are some days that are memorably bad, and fishing becomes misery. Four years ago, I was hired to host a grandpa and his grandson traveling from out of state for a two-day trip in mid-September. Cryptically, the trip began with grandpa storytelling all his terrible past guided trip experiences and his misery was always at the guide’s. I think his bad vibe cursed the boat, because I’d eventually give him his latest terrible trip. A cold front came and decimated the excellent pattern of previous days. Expectations were no longer realistic either. As we were ab