First Fishing of 2013: Getting My License

4/5/12


Rule #31:  Once you've made your point, stop talking.

The Fishing License

I did it.  I went to Walmart today and purchased my fishing license.  Besides the increased price, something else has changed about getting your license.  First, they used to be available only in hardware stores.

My uncle would buy my license for me each year, usually at Simmons Hardware in Albany, IN.  It was the same dark, mysterious store from which my late Grandpa had bought me my first knife: an old Barlow with a long clip blade and a shorter, pen blade.

The salesperson would ask those questions about how tall you were and how much you weighed, whether you wanted a fishing, fishing/hunting, or fishing/hunting/trapping license. My uncle would listen carefully to these questions and my answers, and there would be the usual good-natured teasing about how big I was getting, "too big for his britches," etc.

It's been a while, but I can still remember getting the light blue license that indicated you were "all in," you'd be on the water, in the woods, and in the fields the whole year.  If you got all three seasons, Mr. Simmons would give you a little card stock envelope to keep your license in your wallet.

Getting your license involved looking forward to fish caught; rabbits, squirrels, maybe a quail shot; and muskrats, racoons, even mink trapped.  Everything was ahead of you, and through your imagination, there was no real limit to the success you would have.
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Now, they just take your driver's license, copy down the information, and run your license out on a regular sheet of paper from a printer they keep on the counter.

I miss Simmons Hardware Store.  I miss my uncle.