Ode to Uncle Vic
Posted: Aug 2nd, '09, 13:11
I wrote this after my first UVI (2004) having had a few drinks on a flight to San Francisco. Vic had been kind enough to invite a stranger who didn't even know Bertram31.com existed. I was surely impressed by UV and the whole gang. Sorry I never read this at any of the following UVI's. Seems appropriate to post here after reading others recollections of Port Eads, and those indelible memories of UVI's. Apologies in advance for the colorful language.
Ode to Uncle Vic
I love to fish
Though I don’t know much about it.
I read all I can
To master this habit.
I read on rodnreel.com
The posts of a man, Vic Roy.
Stories of fishing,
Of a man and his boy.
Not interested in tuna
He fishes for marlin
Out of Port Eads
Down south of New Orleans.
I heard of the UVI
A tournament of great men.
By invitation only
If you are going to attend.
You live.
You die.
But have you fished
The UVI?
If I could get an invite
I could fish with Vic Roy,
On his Bertram 31
He calls “Another Joyâ€.
Now for this invite
I sent a lengthy e-mail.
The replyâ€You’re a doctor, from Texas
You can go to hell.â€
I called him at the office
Tried to plead my case.
He wouldn’t take my call
Man, what a waste.
I thought, I must find this man,
For he has much to teach.
I can track him down
It’s not beyond my reach.
I had to find Vic Roy
For this, I could not fail..
I searched Baton Rouge, and the Tickfaw,
Both to no avail.
In Venice and Port Eads
They had not seen him.
I could not find Vic Roy,
My hope grew dim.
It was on my fifth trip
When I finally gave up.
I went to a bar
To drown my sorrow in a cup.
I drank for an hour
Two, three, and more.
When in came a spry young fellow
Of a about sixty four.
He didn’t stay long.
He had little to say.
Then he did something
That I remember to this day.
He impressed us all
With that old Cajun trick.
He knocked all the bottles off the bar
Using only his dick.
He was gone in an instant.
I thought I’d be sick,
For when I asked his name they said
"That was Uncle Vic."
Ode to Uncle Vic
I love to fish
Though I don’t know much about it.
I read all I can
To master this habit.
I read on rodnreel.com
The posts of a man, Vic Roy.
Stories of fishing,
Of a man and his boy.
Not interested in tuna
He fishes for marlin
Out of Port Eads
Down south of New Orleans.
I heard of the UVI
A tournament of great men.
By invitation only
If you are going to attend.
You live.
You die.
But have you fished
The UVI?
If I could get an invite
I could fish with Vic Roy,
On his Bertram 31
He calls “Another Joyâ€.
Now for this invite
I sent a lengthy e-mail.
The replyâ€You’re a doctor, from Texas
You can go to hell.â€
I called him at the office
Tried to plead my case.
He wouldn’t take my call
Man, what a waste.
I thought, I must find this man,
For he has much to teach.
I can track him down
It’s not beyond my reach.
I had to find Vic Roy
For this, I could not fail..
I searched Baton Rouge, and the Tickfaw,
Both to no avail.
In Venice and Port Eads
They had not seen him.
I could not find Vic Roy,
My hope grew dim.
It was on my fifth trip
When I finally gave up.
I went to a bar
To drown my sorrow in a cup.
I drank for an hour
Two, three, and more.
When in came a spry young fellow
Of a about sixty four.
He didn’t stay long.
He had little to say.
Then he did something
That I remember to this day.
He impressed us all
With that old Cajun trick.
He knocked all the bottles off the bar
Using only his dick.
He was gone in an instant.
I thought I’d be sick,
For when I asked his name they said
"That was Uncle Vic."