My Lucky Fishing Pole

If you try a new type of bait, lure, or pole, you attribute your catch with the change. When you do something one way even just a single time and catch a fish, you want to do that thing the same way every time. Some people would call that superstition but I call it using every advantage. I don’t necessarily have to do things a certain way, but I do have a lucky fishing pole. My parents got it for me when I graduated from college. It’s a pretty simple carbon fiber pole—they don’t know all that much about fishing, I am sorry to say—but whenever I use it, I usually manage to pull something edible out of the water. But that’s not the real reason I call it my lucky fishing pole. Nope. I call it my lucky fishing pole because about a year and a half ago, my apartment was robbed while I was at work. I came home and the whole place was trashed. They took just about every single thing of value: my entertainment system, my camera, the cufflinks I inherited from my grandfather, my camping gear. They even took some of my clothes. And yes, they took both of my fishing poles. I was required to have renter’s insurance by my landlordso I was able to claim most of it and get some stuff replaced. Then I moved to a safer neighborhood. I bought one new pole with the money from the claim, a really nice Pinnacle. I used the new rod a few times and it worked really great. But I wasn’t catching anything. It wasn’t just fishing, either. It was as if the robbery had kicked off this huge string of lousy luck. My girlfriend at the time and I broke up. I was up for a promotion at work and didn’t get it. Things were looking kind of bleak all of a sudden. And then, out of the blue about two months later, I got a call from a pawn shop. The manager had found my name and number written on the grip of my fishing rod. It was faint, he said, like they had tried to wash it off. He’d had to guess on some of the digits in the phone number but he finally figured it out. He gave me his address, told me he’d already talked to the police about it, and I went over to pick it up. It was the fishing pole my parents had given me. To this day, it’s the only thing that’s ever been recovered from the robbery. The police think that whoever stole the rest of my stuff is either using whatever they took or they sold it in a different, untraceable, way. I’m not sure why they decided after all this time to pawn the fishing pole but I am grateful that they did. I went fishing with it just a few days later and caught a decent sized trout. I couldn’t believe it. Don’t you just love happy endings? And that’s why I call it my lucky fishing pole.