I was cleaning out my garage a few weeks ago, and I accidentally bumped my fishing rod off of its holster on the wall. As I caught it in my hand I felt something deep within me whisper “remember”, and I was flooded with memories of catching bass along the Upper Niagara River. After coming to terms with what I assume was a curse, I immediately contacted my good friend Sean and asked him if he had any open spots on his boat in the coming weeks. 
He did. And he was even kind enough to let me break his “No cameras on the boat” rule.