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True fishing confessions

Let’s start with the disclosure: I am not a fisherman. I grew up, frankly, loathing the sport.

Here’s why: It was a requirement of my late father’s that the number one son accompany him as he walked local rivers in pursuit of catfish with a cane pole.

Catfish are disgusting. Walking a river when it’s 145 in the shade is awful.

So, imagine my surprise to actually enjoy a couple of hours on a bass boat Wednesday at Flint Oak. See the enclosed:

We were there doing a piece on the possibility of housing at the southeast Kansas outdoor resort.

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