Mr. Chris's Blog:

down to earth

Bass Pro – “I Don’t Hunt Either”

March 07, 2016

There are few places where I am more out of my element than Bass Pro Shop. I am like Walter Mitty when I go there; I daydream that I am an expert outdoorsman hunting down black bear way up in the mountains or catching that award-winning fish way out in the ocean. The reality is I know very little about anything that store specializes in. I am an accountant and a musician, and have pretty much spent my entire life trying to get good at both. That didn’t leave a lot of time for hunting, fishing, camping or anything else along those lines. I am envious of the guys (and gals) who are good at those things and totally appreciate their passion. That said, with the little free time I have, I’d rather be writing a song any day of the week.

We have a Bass Pro store just a few miles down the road from where we live. We enjoy taking the kids there for lunch or dinner at their “Islamorada Fish Company” restaurant, which I think is Spanish for “Fancy Long John Silvers” but that’s another field I know very little about. After the meal, we like to peruse the store. The kids especially like to hang out on the big pontoon boats. Boats are another passion that I appreciate. I would love to have one but have too much “accountant” in me to take that leap. Everyone I have known who has owned a boat says it’s a bad investment and to just rent a boat when you want to hit the water. For that reason I don’t own a boat. However, I also don’t rent boats, but that is solely because I don’t know anything about operating a boat. That is kind of like me saying that I could have totally been a doctor if it wasn’t for the whole science or blood thing. My cousin is a medical doctor; he is also good with money, good at hunting and fishing, and is a good musician and singer. He is like the perfect man; the double trifecta. If I didn’t like him so much I would totally hate him.

Since we have a Bass Pro store close by, I agreed to pick up an item for a friend of mine the he was going to give his son for Christmas. The item to be purchased was a bass fish pillow. Because the recipient of the bass fish pillow is a young boy, we would never ask the obvious question, “Why would anyone want a bass fish pillow?” Boys are boys. On my son’s bed right now is a pillow with a big skull on the front of it, sitting alongside a big red jellyfish and a fart gun. No one would ever look at that and ask, is your son ok Mr. Campbell? Why? Because he is a young boy. My buddy said his son has a friend he admires and the friend already has the bass fish pillow, so his son had to have one as well. Boys grow up to be men and it doesn’t change. Just like many other men in recent years, I bought a set of corn hole tables. I rarely pull them out of the garage. I don’t really love playing corn hole but my friend had a set, then my other friend bought a set, and then another friend acquired a set, and so on and so forth. You get the idea, the corn hole set is my bass fish pillow. Did women ever take a step back and ask “Is it strange for grown men to be buying a game called corn hole?” No, why? Because we are just young boys in grown up bodies, and women understand that. They also understand that since birth our instinct and intellect has pretty much been limited to throwing an object at a target. Think about it. And in response to the women we say, “uh-huh, well duh.”

Ok, so I head to Bass Pro and I figured I’d run in, find the pillow, and get out quickly. Well, after 20 minutes of searching, I asked 3 different employees, “Where can I find your bass fish pillow?” After pin-pointing the location, it was apparent there were many different fish pillow selections. “Durn!” I tried using my smart phone to research pictures of fish online, but I couldn’t get data service inside the store. I then looked around the fishing department hoping to find some relevant information, but had no luck. After re-reviewing the pillow options and exhausting any memory I had of that Billy the Bass singing fish that Grandma Campbell used to have hanging on her wall, I finally got humble and asked an older man standing nearby, “Sir, would you happen to know which one of these pillows is a bass?” He pointed it out to me right away. However, given the importance of making the right decision for my friend, and against my better judgment, the “auditor” in me took over and I responded “Just so I can make sure here sir, what are these other fish pillows?” So he honored my challenge and explained – “This is a catfish, this is a sockeye salmon, this is a shark, this is a rainbow trout, and this is a mahi mahi,” with clear confidence. I nodded, indicating non-verbally that I felt his explanation was adequate. He then asked me, “You don’t fish much do you son?” I said, “No sir,” and out of my nervousness I further explained “and I don’t hunt either.” He put his arm on my shoulder and laughed the funniest laugh, as if my knowledge about hunting was remotely in question either. He said “Trust me friend, that’s a bass fish you got there.” And so I walked proudly to the cashier’s station among the many shoppers, confident with my fish selection.

Until next week,
Chris