Boat show attracts kindred spirits
A man approached me at the boat show the other night. I could tell he was my kind of guy by the wool he wore and the weathered look of his face.
"I owe you an apology," he said.
He introduced himself and told me where he lived. I had called him last winter and had left a message wondering if we could get together to do some trout fishing. I'd have wanted to write about it.
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