My father is part of a long line of collectors. Not good collectors who can go onto “Antiques Roadshow” and get a ton of cash but ones that find old chairs, broken waterskis and other useless junk that might be useful at some point in somebody’s life.
Above are actually the spearguns that I found in the grandfather’s (now my dad’s) workroom. Yes,
spearguns. Now, we don’t have a good reason for the spearguns since we’re at a small, warm lake that has fish that can easily be caught with a fishing rod and most of which you would not want to eat. There are no alligators, piranha or deadly… anything.
I assume it went something like this: I will give my grandfather credit for protecting the family from “The Creature From The Black Lagoon Lake” back in the ’60’s. They ate well for a while, but I never got a taste since I wasn’t born until the 70’s and they’d killed off all of them by then.
Got any better ideas? (no… Bigfoot cannot be hunted by speargun…)