WHEN TO CATCH A STORY

Gamblers will tell you about their winnings; As if the lever they’re pulling serves one function and one function only: It opens a secret door to their money trough. "I’m going to the Motor City Casino after my shift," the conversation starts. I needn’t remind my one coworker about how she’d been held hostage on her last visit when someone called in a fake bomb threat.

As for me, I’d rather set foot on my Dad’s Starcraft boat, or at least cast a line from shore into the murky waters below. "I’m going fishing after work," my conversation starts. And like my fellow gamblers, you’re sure to hear stories about that big whale-of-a-fish that nearly got away. And if he did get away, well then, he just got bigger—"I was up by six hundred dollars before my luck had changed." How else do you soften your losses?

On a similar note, my wife’s been gearing up for her garden tour, and like most Master Gardeners, she’s tending to extra plants that’ll be free to a good home. Near our shed, in the direct sun, are four plastic dish pans filled with water plants. To our surprise, baby goldfish had inhabited the same area. "I remember," my Dad says, recalling his youth as he taps on the goldfish bowl, "having to clean the eaves on our farmhouse and finding minnows swimming around." He says this as if it were an every day natural occurrence. He needn’t explain how they got up there. I jot this down in my notebook for future use in a story.