Coming from Baltimore, I’m a southerner at heart. Baltimore definitely gets snow, but it’s nothing like the bay freezes. We also spend more time crabbing than fishing. I love crab, which is somewhat problematic for the son of two Rabbis. However, it’s really their problem, not mine. My love of crab is stronger than my affection for Jewish tradition. Suck it, Tevya

But there are unfortunately no blue crabs in lake Ontario. There is, however, plenty of ice. This led me to the conclusion that I should try ice fishing. So I went up to the lake, and ventured out onto the ice. 

A disclaimer: I know nothing about ice fishing.

I started by trying to kick a hole in the ice. That… didn’t work well. I’m told that if you can kick a hole in the ice you probably need to get off the ice before you fall into a freezing lake. Which, while surely an interesting experience, was not the goal. 

So, I went back to my car to get my ice saw (because every good fisherman has an ice saw in his back pocket) and brought it out onto the lake. It took me a while (because unlike every good fisherman, I know next to nothing about ice saws) but I eventually made a hole. 

At this point, I was beginning to realize how woefully unprepared I was to go ice fishing. Go figure. I knew that some people do it with a spear, and I figured that after two semesters of classical archaeology, I would have one laying around, but unfortunately I didn’t. 

I decided to do some research and try again. I probably should’ve started with that, but we’re here now. 

My girlfriend, fortunately, speaks Finnish. I thought that would make her an expert on ice fishing. She disagrees, but she still had lots of advice. 

Apparently, I was missing beer and a chair. The chair was pretty easily acquired — I stole one from the pile in the corner of Wilco (it’s not like anyone was using it). In addition, I happened to have the beer in my trunk (as all good fishermen also do). 

She also explained that nobody uses spears anymore, so I procured a fishing rod through… certain means. Now, I was actually prepared to go ice fishing. 

I cut a new hole, plopped my chair down next to it (the green of the padding clashed a bit with the ice, but oh well) and started drinking beer. Unfortunately, I caught no fish, but I did get drunk and fall asleep. 

I’d count this as a success. 



Notes by Nadia: What’s wrong with being a fan?

I wish that people would just mind their business and stop acting like being a fan of an artist is “weird.”

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