Holyoke Happening

Festival pics, a video and a Franco update.

 



While floating through Holyoke on Saturday afternoon I came upon the Celebrate Holyoke festival, or whatever it's called.

This guy was selling a lot of balloons!

This Holyoke cop was zooming around the festival on a Segway. I've seen them before on television, but this was the first time I ever saw one being used in real life. 

Of course nothing happens in Holyoke without the politicians onhand, and in this case they are being represented by a whole string of signs. 

Mr. McGee had a campaign tent set up to support his candidacy. 

I came across one gentleman who was dealing baseball cards, some of which he was selling for as much as two hundred dollars! Observe the Mighty Yaz in the right hand corner.

On a Holyoke No Parking sign I saw this old Fishing Buddies sticker. They were quite the sensation in the 1990's when they fought to open the reservoir for fishing. 

The Environmental Protection Agency eventually gave them a merit award, and had this to say about them on their website.

Darby O'Brien founded Fishing Buddies and began a grassroots campaign to open the City of Holyoke's drinking water reservoirs to recreational fishing. In 1998, two nationally known environmental leaders and activists – John Cronin, the Hudson Riverkeeper, and Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., co-director of Pace Environmental Litigation Clinic – joined the campaign. In September 1998, the city sponsored a one-day fishing derby for residents at the Whiting Street reservoir. Working with EPA, the state Division of Fish and Wildlife and others organizations, the "buddies" and their colleagues continue to advance a community policy to allow limited recreational use of the reservoirs. Fishing Buddies sponsors a local chapter of the national Fishing Tackle Loaner Program at the Holyoke Public Library for boys and girls who don't own fishing poles. They also solicit mentors for the Buddy System, which hooks kids up with volunteers to take them fishing.

Our Valley could use more of their kind of activism.

Mike Franco, who is in a legal tussle with supporters of State Rep. Angelo Puppolo over an alleged assault over political differences, sends this further detail of the alleged political harassment he has received, this time supposedly from someone at the Springfield Newspapers. Here is what Franco said in an email I received this morning;

Another disturbing occurrence immediately after the violent attack upon me that morning was when a guy by the name of Stasi Hierapolis (sp?), claiming to be a reporter with the Republican Newspaper (but wouldn't show me his credentials), verbally accosted me, shoving a recording device in my face, and accusing me of posting another banner in the area that called the Republican a "Homosexual Activist Newspaper."

Sincerely,
Mike Franco

 
In May I saw that protester on Route Nine in Northampton and took this picture.

With the hat and the shades, I can't be sure if it's Franco or not. Can you?

The Aesthetics of Worm Fishing

Although I've gone fishing all my life, even after all these years somewhere in the recesses of my mind I still sorta go "Ick!" whenever I have to put a worm on a hook.

Poor worms. As stupid and ugly as snakes, but without that creature's hypnotic grace, they are doomed to slither through the soil thanklessly aerating the roots of plants. How slow and peaceful their underground lives must have been before the first man or woman discovered that nearly all freshwater fish consider worms to be the hungry waterworld's equivalent of french fries.

Before you can put a worm on a hook, it is necessary to acquire some. If there is plenty of time, go out any summer night with a flashlight and gather them right off your front lawn. This method is especially popular among children who have no money.

Otherwise, go to any bait shop or outdoorsman's store and simply buy them. Years ago, it was possible to go to any body of water and be sure of finding in the immediate area some little bait shop, usually run out of somebody's porch or garage. Now it's rare to find those homegrown worm farms. Over a decade ago the professional bait shops teamed up and successfully lobbied the legislature to forbid the selling of bait without meeting certain requirements. The cost of complying with those regulations put most of the backyard worm farms out of business. Shortly afterwards, by an odd coincidence the price of a dozen worms doubled.

A dozen worms typically comes in a nice, white styrofoam cup with a plastic lid. This is more convenient than having to bring your own coffee can filled with dirt like the backyard sellers used to require. The disadvantage is that now every body of water that is frequently fished has the whole shoreline littered with styrofoam containers and plastic lids. Ecologically speaking, these are not predicted to decompose until (in descending order of probability) the sun turns purple, the law of gravity is repealed or the State of Massachusetts elects an honest legislature.

Wherever your worms comes from, the process of putting one on your hook is actually quite simple. Just take a worm out of the cup and let it sit in the palm of your hand. See how it squirms and struggles. Not surprisingly, your worm is frightened to be removed from its dark world of moist dirt. Worms don't like light, but your worm is soon to discover that there are a great many worse things it doesn't like.

It is a waste of money to put a whole worm on the hook, since fish will be attracted to a worm half the size that they usually are when full grown. So pick the worm up by its middle and position it between your thumb and index finger. Squeeze tightly, utilizing your fingernail like a razor. Try to ignore any soft squishing sounds as the worm's internal organs rupture while the worm is sawed in two. Notice that somehow both halves of the worm are still alive. Keep one half and return the other to the styrofoam cup. It's a good idea to keep an old rag handy for wiping off worm guts after completing this step.

Next, take the hook in one hand and the worm in the other. Carefully position the middle of the worm over the hook. Then firmly press the worm's writhing and squirming body against the hook's point, burying it deep into the worm's soft flesh until the hook emerges slimy with blood out of the other side of the worm's body. Yet, this may not be sufficient. Should a fish bite only one end of the worm, than it may be snapped in two, allowing the fish to escape. Never invite a fish to dinner and then allow it to eat and run! This can be avoided by passing the hook through the worm one more time in a different part of its body. Be careful though to position the worm far enough down the hook so that its agonized thrashing doesn't cause the hook itself to be obscured.

Now cast your line. Observe as the impaled, terrified and agonizing worm goes flying through the air and comes splashing down in the water and sinks toward the murky bottom of the pond or river. In a hysterical frenzy after having been squeezed in two, twice impaled, hurtled through air and now drowning, the worm will then commence a furious twisting and thrashing. Hopefully, these desperate death throes will attract the attention of a nearby bass or trout.

After a short while, if no fish bite, reel the worm in and cast again. Repeat this until either a fish gets your hook stuck in its throat or the worm dies. Worms are very hardy creatures however, and they can endure for as long as a half hour before expiring.

At the end of the day, depending on how the fish were biting, there may be a few worms left that you never used. These can be saved for another day, but if there's no way to predict when you might use them, then it may be best just to let them go. I throw mine into the woods, where presumably they burrow themselves into the ground and begin new lives in the wild. I like to think that they live happily ever after. 

The returns are in for Amherst's town election and I'm told that virtue has triumphed. As near as I can figure, a husband and wife who were serving on the board of selectpersons have been messing up the town with all their ultra-liberal views. Apparently the husband was ousted yesterday by a fiscal moderate. This is seen as good news, since a rumored round of property tax increases now seems less probable with the liberal gone. That is my profound analysis of the election results.