December 29th, 2008

Don Quixote
By James Castwell

'Tis an unkind thing I have done unto you.' No, that is not a quote from some famous something or other, it is just a bit of perhaps the truth. Years ago I had an assignment to write a few columns about casting and for a myriad of reasons, unclear yet to me this day, chose to cloak them under a 'nom de plume,' that is, a pen name. I had loved from the first reading the name of Mr. Castwell in literature and stole it for my own use.

Over these past many years now I have continued to do shamelessly so. So shamelessly in fact that at times I assume the persona of said gentleman and promote enlightenment in the world of fly casting. So much so that in fact, I (J Castwell) seem to have taken on a life of my (his) own. It would not be hard for you to come across me on a stream and believe indeed that it was in fact me (J Castwell). You see how intrinsically I (we) (they) have become entwined.

Now, I apologetically take it a licensed and measured step farther/further (they may both apply). At this time you may be willing to grant me existence if perchance you encountered me (we) or (us). However, someday, way in the distant future I should hope, I may not be able to always present myself in the flesh as it were. So, I do now proclaim that I shall continue on my 'Don Quixote' venture for many millennia.

I have been accused in the past of being far to much like my idol and do admit to a certain mind/mindless set that does not separate us by the common six degrees. A certain splash of 'Cervantesness' doth show at times, but alas, never with any degree of talent or creativeness of any note whatsoever. From here on, I impudently step into the hallowed halls of the future and proclaim my spot by so doing. The visage and persona will giddily go forth and impishly appear roundabouts and though rarely if ever witnessed, his presence will often be felt in both mind and spirit. I too have gone about this fly fishing game with rod thrust fervently forth in hopes of some conquest. Rod in hand, head in the clouds, on I have gone. And chose to continue to do so.

I shall have every right to exist as any other. And to continue to exist, if not in the flesh, at least in the very minds of those who encounter the name in whatever places they may subject themselves to delve. After all, would it not be a shame for such bravado and unabashed humility to go for naught? Why should any possibility of a chance encounter be robbed by some final resting place? Is it not far better that some things continue as they are? Surely you can not disagree with such a premise. I thought not. Thank you.

So there you have it. I shall remain with you and yours to come. Time, no longer my enemy, but now my companion, I welcome you with 'tilted' lance or long rod, have it as you would sir. We shall go wading the streams of time and memory at the same instant as a movie figure can be on many screens at a time.

Perhaps I have dealt a savage blow to my recreation. If so, forgive me as it was not my intention. Rather to give soul, if not body, to that spirit which hovers about the streams of my memory and may inhabit yours as well. Glimpses of those I have met, real or imaginary, now too late for me to determine which live with me still.

We are unique, each of us, at once creating our memories and at the same time cataloging them. I trust there will be room for J Castwell, the modern DQ. Look for me. I shall not be far. I shall not be far. ~ James Castwell

Till next week, remember . . .

Keepest Thynne Baakast Upeth

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