The "Four Amigos" are Norm Budden, Don Hettrick, Bob "Slick" McCulloch and yours truly. We have been friends and fishing partners for a ton of years.
In our foursome, Budden and McCulloch love to unendingly tease, torment or play practical jokes on Don H and me. Through the years, some of the tormenting, teasing or practical jokes they have pulled would make your eyes get big and round, before you would burst out into laughter.
Those two are absolutely diabolical in what they have done to Don H and Don Q, and the two of us are very careful to never, never give them any ammunition that they can use against us .
Here are several examples of some of the dastardly deeds they have pulled just on me:
They placed a "For Sale - Cheap" sign on the back of my new pickup. It was the same color as the pickup and they knew I would not see it because I am color-blind. I got 26 calls before I finally figured out what had happened.
When we have been spincasting for trout, they have selected the wrong color of lure for me, knowing that I won't know the difference. Then I have spent most of the morning disgustedly getting "skunked," while they gleefully reeled in fish after fish.
On one deer hunting trip, Norm loaded a number of large rocks in my daypack and I unknowingly carried them all over the hills that day. Man on man, was I ever tired!
Once, Norm gave me an Alaska cap as a present, knowing that I dearly love those caps. It turned out he had stolen it from a drunk, who was asleep on the beach!
They smeared stove pipe soot on the inside of my Alaska cap, before we attended a huge fishing derby award dinner. Whenever I took my cap off to scratch my head while talking to someone, that person would gasp because I had a black band across my forehead.
Well, here is my reference to "Loose Lips, Sink Ships":
About five years ago, Don H and I were fishing in his boat at Bridgeport Reservoir. It was a nasty, windy, snowy day, and the wind finally blew us off the water.
When we got back to the ramp, I attempted to jump from the bow of the boat to the shore. In doing so, I slipped and fell into that freezing water.
I climbed out, completely soaked from head to foot, pointed my finger at Don H (who was standing there with big, round eyes) and said, "If you ever say one word to those two about what just happened, I'll put a curse on you and make sure that you get warts on your nose, your feet smell and your hair falls out."
He solemnly promised he would never say a word, and that threat worked beautifully, until last week.
Early last week, while Slick was talking to Don H on the telephone, Hettrick slipped and told him about my five-year-old mishap.
You guessed it! Within seconds, Slick called to confirm that information. I lied through my teeth and told him that it was untrue.
He giggled and hung up.
Within micro seconds, Norm called to confirm what Slick had just relayed to him. I lied again and told him that it was untrue
He also giggled and hung up.
Geez, my worst fears had come true: They knew, and if they knew, the whole world would know.
Telling those two a secret is like printing it on the front page of the Sunday Nevada Appeal.
I immediately called Don H and said, "Holy Moly, do you know what you just did? Those two now know about me falling into that miserable reservoir, five years ago."
He sheepishly replied, "I couldn't help it. It just slipped out."
I said, "What the heck do you mean, it just slipped out. I'm trapped like a rat."
Then, Don H added, as an after thought, "But, you know after five years of keeping that secret to myself, when it finally happened, it was like going to Confession. It felt so good after I confessed. I used to toss and turn at nights, worrying about them finding out. Now, my conscience is clean."
I loudly shouted, "Geez, you big snitch, thanks for telling them. Now they got me where they want. Don't you remember that old World War II saying: 'Loose Lips, Sink Ships.' You just sank my ship."
Then, I added, "You sang like a big 250-pound canary."
Finally, with all that said, I'm now toying with the intriguing idea of getting a new fishing partner to replace "Loose Lips" Don H.
Here is the type of fishing partner that it would be nice to have:
That person must: Keep dark secrets (forever and ever!). Be close lipped at all times. Be willing to lie and cheat in any dealings of any kind at any time with Norm and Slick. Drink Manhattans. Laugh at all my jokes. Let Don Q catch the first fish, the most fish and the biggest fish on every fishing trip.
Is anyone interested?
-- Bet Your Favorite Pigeon
Bet your favorite pigeon that he can't tell you if Don H is a smoker.
If he grins and says, "Don H dearly loves to smoke a cigar while fishing," he could have been on one of our countless fishing trips.
-- Don Quilici is the Outdoors editor for the Nevada Appeal.