Kate & Spence On The Fly

  It was all terribly hush-hush in those early crazy Hollywood days when Spencer Tracy was dragging around two rather cumbersome giant gorillas on his talented back; alcoholism and a stiff short right hand aimed at female jaws his least agreeable trait..... Ms. Hepburn Yankee stoic blood always boiling, yet enduring more in the manner of the classic Russian widow’s submission to fated destiny. Mothered the old cad and weathered many booze induced nightmares in her sojourn to his dark side. Kate was as all who knew her agreed an outdoors person, horses, fishing you name it she was game and fine company if you were female! (Tracy a rare exception).

  This tale was related to me by my Grand Uncle Botar my Father’s, Mother’s, Sister’s husband. A working San Francisco Stockyard/Slaughter House Wrangler, horse breaker, fair vet, all around working Cowboy from 1885 until his death in the 1970s. He was one of my main mentors in the ways of real live fire breathing adventurers as he often described himself. A real character who taught me words that till this day can’t be used in mixed company. Needless to say I worshiped and loved the ground this old six foot five Irish back alley brawler occupied. My fondest memory was bailing him out in his late 70s when some young upstart insulted his dog while out walking and wound up losing two teeth for his troubles, loved that man...

  Cathedral Of Light

  In the early years circa 1920s, 30s,40s, Yosemite National Park was a sublime destination for nature lovers, fly fishers, bird watchers, photographers etc. Those A list outdoor types, Clark Gable, Robert Stack (world champion skeet shooter married to cereal heir Dina Merrill), Spencer Tracey, Errol Flynn (Irish ladies man, rogue infamous Bar brawler) cavorted in Yosemite’s many rivers, streams, majestic mountains, mighty Merced River. This fly fishy tale begins around 7pm at a men’s private Bar hosted by MGM promoting their latest wanna be block buster. A highly agitated red faced slightly belligerent Spencer Tracy just dropped his shot glass and shattered the calm, "Dam it, they don’t make glass like the used to hey Jimmy?" "No Sir Mr. Tracy. Sir, I have a note from Ms. Hepburn." "Dear Spence, Afraid my fly fishing lesson will be running late! It appears my instructor Mr. Botar firmly insists we witness an early evening Mosquito Hatch while dining on Elk steaks and single malts .... Its all for the sport sweety, I’ll try to disengage around Sunset. Miss you. Kate."

Yosemite Peak

  "Who the Hell is this Botar fly fishing teacher character preying on innocent movie starlets like some kind of back country Svengali casting, couch, flyrod whatever he’s wielding in my gal’s face Jimmy?"!

  "Oh no Sir, if I might. Mr. Botar is an expert in these matters and has taught many famous how to fly fish. Brings them here for dinner. He knows you’re here waiting and will be ambling in soon, can’t miss that man. Six feet five all grey hair and teeth, you can’t miss him or his laugh!"

  "Give me a double Scotch no rocks beer back. So where the Hell are they, its been another hour and the Sun has set?"

  Jimmy "B" The Fly Master?

  Moving like a ten year old scarred alley cat who knows his way around trout, woman, fly rods, Irish Single Malts.With a tongue quicker then his fists which had been tested more times then he could count. Jimmy Botar was nearing mid forties all wavy grey hair and lanky six feet plus.He was often witnessed dragging a wiggling stringer Rainbows taken just across Main Street in front of small crowd of fly fishers who file in behind him to buy his deep diving nymphs by the dozen for serious dollars! His prowess with fly tying and small streams was legendary. He was known to spend months going from river to stream to creek tying catching having lunch with that big fat wiggling stringer in a bucket of water next to him selling enough flies to pay his way for years.

  "Botar is that you man, confounded where the devil have you and my gal been, its after 8pm Sir and the Sun has long lost its glow!"

  "You must be Tracy her Bow, Hollywood actor are ya. Fly fishing ain’t like Hollywood, we don’t have a shooting schedule or any kind of time line I’m afraid Spence. You’ll just have to try and grasp this outdoor philosophy your gal seems tuned into to."

  "Lets have a drink Sir, water under the bridge all that rot the English spew nobly! Dam hard for dumb ass drunken Irishmen to be noble. Now I have some experience with fly rods and wing shooting with my pals Robert Stack and Errol Flynn."

  Kate Hepburn enters cheeks flushed trousers perfectly tailored looking awfully up beat and fresh...

  "Boys I see the old Glenlivet is being drowned in branch water, I could drink panther piss sifted through my own panties."

  "Has a mouth on her hey Botar, Dam if all the wannabe starlets were this charming I would have saved my liver several rivers of single malt!"

  "Show Spence some of those flies you threw together Bow, I love the bright red feathery ones. How many woman want to make jewelry out of these little insect replica’s?"

  "Well, guess Hen’s see dam near everything different then Rooster’s Mam..."

  "Love that, love that! See Spence that’s why woman folk hang around with Bow, he speaks like old Tennessee Williams wish’s he could write on a good night hey Irishmen?"

"No argument from me on that score except maybe if he is a might one dimensional right Mr. Botar?"

  "Man must know his limitations might just be another pathetic timid white man myth, excuse for not getting the ball over the goal post. Time for my supper, see you in the morning around ten for your casting lesson Miss. Hepburn nice to meet you Tracy welcome to come along in the morning fine tune your own swing if you like."

Katharine Hepburn

  Lake Tenya one of the many majestic often placid lakes perfect for teaching fly casting on windless mornings. Jimmy "B" was known to provide a classic French country breakfast with Cinnamon Brandy Souffles, three kinds of scones, fresh butter, wild flower jams, tea and fresh brewed coffee were served on Jimmy’s antique white porcelain tea service. Individual silver trays and fresh flowers never failed to impress, Brandy, Single Malts and whiskey got the blood flowing before casting lessons. Females were his only students as Jimmy firmly believed only woman could truly master and understand the finer poetic aspects of fly fishing at the upper reaches of esoterica becoming one with the natural order...

  "This souffle is splendid Jimmy, my favorite black tea and fresh flowers. Very nice! Will you show again slowly how to tie " Yellow Trouble".

  "No problem, lets wait a bit for the Sun to warm. Where is your Hollywood actor fella?"

  "Phone attached to his ear, was kinda anxious about too much time with the fly fishing instructor"

  "Fella can’t be too careful these days. Lets tie a few flies for the morning. After casting lesson’s a steady mosquito hatch welcomes every morning on this lake. Dry fly work will be good for your casting practice."

  Jimmy quickly moves behind Kate reaching around her waist controlling her swing as the line moves off the ground and takes to the air. An angry red faced obviously drunk Tracy is watched stumbling across the beach toward his gal!

  "Good Lord Man, if you two were any closer you would both be wearing that terribly tight sweater!"

  "Have some of that divine Souffle Spence, think I’m actually getting the hang of this fly casting thing."

  "Looks like someone is getting the hang of something for sure. Where is that Dam flask, there we go little hair of the Irish dog that bit ought do the trick. How about a nip for you Botar?"

  "Too early for this Irishmen, have a long canoe trip do begin this morning after lunch. Looks like you been burning the candle at both ends Tracy. Your obviously out of shape, packing a beer gut and short of breath Sir. If I were you a complete check up followed by long walks and short runs will get that Irish body working for you instead of against you movie actor.

One more thing before we adjourn. Don’t ever speak to a man like me the way you have in the last two days Hollywood actor! I would not hesitate to give you a Boxing lesson old man, good luck and please pick up all your trash before leaving the lake area, Kate no charge for this morning best of luck.

Yellow Trouble

Hook: Streamer barbless (size your choice?)
Thread: Silk Black
Tail: Strands of yellow Macaw
Body: Black Floss with silver tensil
Wing: South American Macaw
Under Wing: Several individual strands yellow Macaw
Head: Black thread

**This pattern based on the legendary Black Ghost Marabu.

Our four fast lane fellows and felines are now swaying to a semi professional rendition of " Wild Horses " blowing notes across the barren wind blown rocky Irish Coast. Paris Hilton (Sans panties!) La Sharon Stone (Special panties!) Keith Richards Glimmer Twin, Fletcher Quill perched on Raven’s Haven medieval roof complete with rock catapult just in case Pirates attack!

  "Keith, Dude lets rip a few lines "Sympathy For The Devil" my harp work getting better hey?"

  "One tune I never sing without little Micky is that one Mate! For reasons we can’t square it always triggers negative vibes. Frigging residuals from Altamont we figure."

  "Al righty then, how about "Under My Thumb" One, One, two three..."

Cell phone explodes the moment, it’s the other Glimmer Twin with an attitude problem.

  "What is the haps Mr. Richards? We going to cut this album or cut bait Mate? I got a room full of our Chicago Blues Boys ready to make serious noise..."

  "We be eating brain food and singing our ass’s off Micky my boy, you ready to cut Quill’s rock ditty?"

  "Put The Fly Fool on Pee Wee."

  "Still 98 lbs soaking wet oh wealthy beyond all dreams?"

  "You and me Mate been making rough music in the Irish breeze hey, ingesting and jesting hey Fly Man?"

  "Guess we be messing a bit Laddy, you must be tired after the endless tour and counting all those almost worthless dollars now that the Euro has Uncle Sam sucking wind?"

  "Well put Yankee Doodle Dandy.Kieth says your Harp is coming right along. I got special lessons backstage from Howling Wolf in my youth and Charlie Musselwhite, another killer player a kid from South San Francisco he and his brother Dan had a bad ass little blues band, Mike Fallon could make the harp whine like a baby......"

  "Heard of those boys, they were known as the " Might Brothers " as in might do anything at any time! Keith wants your ear Mate, take care rocker man..."

  "I’m on the next flight out in the morning. I got messages and some special booty from our boy Quilly."

As sudden as the changing Irish Wind a hush comes over the festivities as the one and only dead but still the funniest man Vegas ever knew Abbott Sammy Kinnison appears with several of the Fairies who live and work in the San Francisco Golden Gate Park Underground city complex that is his Kingdom...

  "OH man I love this Castle Fletcher my boy."

  "Sammy Baby, what’s the haps back in Sodom & Gomorrah? Boy Mayor out lawing more holidays?"

  "Worse then that oh Dark Prince of Ocean Beach, Boy Mayor killed Halloween chaos in the Castro which extinguished the spark in the rest of your once wide open international port where anything went and all was possible if you had enough coinage. Now a days spoiled skinny soccer mom’s all died Blond neurotic, horny, little scheming liars are going through working stiff slobs and stripping them of their last dime leaving the bleached drunken bones to the maggots in the Marina Bar’s..."

  "Just got a cell call the duly elected Board of Moron’s are letting greedy real estate types blistered and battered by the 2nd mortgage market collapse erect 200 story glass monoliths to contemporary man’s cold blooded need to dominate every inch San Francisco’s once eclectic skyline. Reminds me of the noted Bleached Blond Bimbo socialite who su-ked and fuc-ed her way into several deep pockets and removed about 200 million to personally build an ugly ass edifice supposed new museum in Golden Gate Park. It looks like a brownish mothballed decaying battleship, a great eye sore at best Dude."

  "Here you are about to go into a serious shoot out and your old crib is crumbling into banality run by pablum uneducated coke snorters who ought to be stocking shelves, sweeping up or taking lunch orders..."

  "Think I’ll let you and my hundreds of tiny people friends come up with a plan to re take my beloved San Francisco’s soul after we take care of this Middle east bump in the road. I may retire if they give me another star. Its been a great 30years from private, corporal, Sargent all the way to these shiny stars. Might be time to start writing about these wild ass adventures. Now how about we take a long hard look at my new four story peace tower, come on boys lets roll..."

  PEACE TOWER

Capable of gently swinging three and a half feet in the stiff Irish ocean breeze, one hundred feet from it’s granite base to the pyramid meditation glass inclosed top, built with grey granite locally cut. No more then a playing card fit between blocks, spiral stair case made of beach driftwood burnt black and lacquered.

Many of Quill’s surrealist art works hang along the staircase walls. A large fire ring surrounded by ten foot natural colored crystals standing and fracturing light as the fire roars creates with the help of Frankincense, myrrh burn an archaic mood pervades.....

Suddenly the voice of the Angel of Peace echoed through the new Peace Temple built to the precise orders of the Peace Angel’s celestial architects, " You must appoint a mortal female being of the highest virtue to be the White Princess and keeper of this place. This must be done to activate the peace vibrations which will help you turn the upcoming opposing General’s Summit into a clear success. Do you understand a woman of real virtue, find and appoint this being quickly or loose the window of opportunity wild ass Irish madman!"

  "I do know one being who fits that bill quite nicely "Mother Superia Serena" the hot Nun that smacked my F1 would be perfect for this gig, perfect! Get her on the cell, offer a huge donation to her poor fallen Angels and ya de yada... Sharon your going to love this gal exact opposite of you two seasoned sluts. Especially Timba, she love cats, where is my kitty?"

  "What the fu-k did you just just spew out of that whacked Irish pie hole of your’s there nature boy? Your little Frisco Nun is pretty hot hey Quill? So you think a another Hen in the chicken house along with our sweet Paris is going to make it all warm fuzzy for your international movie star girlfriend fooooool!!!! Ok, listen carefully moron, figure out your perverted priorities quick before I go psycho!"

  "You getting those perfect panties in a twist for naught oh owner of my heart. This is all about activating my new Peace Temple. I need her purity of spirit which is absent here precious, you dig? Have to have the energy set just right before the six opposing General’s get here in the morning, last chance to save my ancient ass before the shooting starts."

  "Every time you show up Chaos rides on your left schoulder, haven’t seen you in ages and you pull a stunt like this another female! I saw her photo fool thirtish still smoking hot and very Blond. Looks like your brand Cowboy."

  "You been alone here too long Sharon, this quiet can get to you sweety. Maybe a little trip would work for you, think about it. Where is our Paris, locked the tying room so she can’t waste anymore feathers!"

  "You didn’t hear a word did you General?"

  "Loud and clear oh Blond Goddess, loud and clear. Either you find your center in your own time or hand of fate may intervene."

Blond Showdown? Tooooo many Hen’s in the Castle?