My grandfather was no cuthroat, but a splitter
Posted by Jona8than | Labels: dilemma, grandfather, hard, pop, splitter | Posted On Friday, December 26, 2008 at 8:41 p.m.
He cut, split, the backbones out. The cuthroat cut between the head and gills, sliced down the abdomen from that cut. The header took the liver out, and wretched the head off. The splitter took the backbone out. The salter salted.
It was said of my Pop Green he always had a sound bone in the air. Which means as he cut the backbone out and tossed it, he was already cutting the backbone out of another before the backbone of the other one landed.
If you're wondering, I'm speaking of fish. and don't ask what kind, for it's Newfoundland and fish means something particular here.
A splitter. On the Labrador Coast. Land of Cain they call it.
I may be from the land of Cain, but I've never had a sound bone in the aire. Fuck, I wouldn't know to be a splitter if I wanted to be. I'd make a mang of the fish if I had to cut the backbone out.
Great Grandfather Brown, Henry, I believe the name was. Earl Pilgrim, an author and historian, said "he was the hardest man in White bay". That's a lot of mileage. Not sure what that totally entitles, but got an inkling. He was 7ft tall mind you, and that must help someone from fucking with ya. It's unlikely the same will be ever said of me.
It's hard measuring up to people of the past, people you don't know. It's even harder trying to find someone worth measuring up to as well. For a while there it was only ever fictional characters, and now, well, hasn't changed a whole lot. It's a dilemma to me. How to better myself when I can't seem to find a real better.
It's not a superiority complex, but rather a recognizing that everyone is in the same state as me.
If none better, than even something to rebel against would be good. But really, got nothing.
This is what happens when I'm not in the printshop
It was said of my Pop Green he always had a sound bone in the air. Which means as he cut the backbone out and tossed it, he was already cutting the backbone out of another before the backbone of the other one landed.
If you're wondering, I'm speaking of fish. and don't ask what kind, for it's Newfoundland and fish means something particular here.
A splitter. On the Labrador Coast. Land of Cain they call it.
I may be from the land of Cain, but I've never had a sound bone in the aire. Fuck, I wouldn't know to be a splitter if I wanted to be. I'd make a mang of the fish if I had to cut the backbone out.
Great Grandfather Brown, Henry, I believe the name was. Earl Pilgrim, an author and historian, said "he was the hardest man in White bay". That's a lot of mileage. Not sure what that totally entitles, but got an inkling. He was 7ft tall mind you, and that must help someone from fucking with ya. It's unlikely the same will be ever said of me.
It's hard measuring up to people of the past, people you don't know. It's even harder trying to find someone worth measuring up to as well. For a while there it was only ever fictional characters, and now, well, hasn't changed a whole lot. It's a dilemma to me. How to better myself when I can't seem to find a real better.
It's not a superiority complex, but rather a recognizing that everyone is in the same state as me.
If none better, than even something to rebel against would be good. But really, got nothing.
This is what happens when I'm not in the printshop
