Mississippi boy for life

Former Clarion-Ledger outdoor editor begins online column

“Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste ….”

I’m not sure what Mick Jagger had in mind when he sang those words, but I know his interpretation would differ greatly from mine.

My wealth is not measured in money, but in the joy of living the life of an outdoor writer in Mississippi. For 30 years, I’ve been paid to hunt and fish and write about it, all the while meeting great people and telling their stories. That’s rich in my book.

My taste? People who know me would say, “it’s all in his mouth.” That attests to my love of good food and libation, and to my quirky take on life. I dress funny, love tasteless humor — I am a 57-year-old South Park junky — and I will laugh out loud at bodily noises, especially when delivered with perfect timing.

I am weird, and that’s on my good days.

Even though I have written for the state’s largest newspaper for parts of four decades, I start this new venture seeing a need to introduce myself to what surely will be new readers.

Meet Bobby Cleveland.

Born and raised in Hattiesburg, and except for a few months of working offshore out of Grand Isle, La. (I flunked away my scholarship), I have always called Mississippi home. It always will be my home, even if I move away, but since that would require I hit the Powerball jackpot, it is not likely.

I am married to another Magnolia lifer, Pam, and I am a classic case of people who marry above their station. If ever life is to be fair, she is the one who deserves to hit the lottery, since, well, “unlucky at love, lucky at ….”

I met her at a bait shop that she once owned, and our first conversation came when she was bent over a cricket bin to fill my box. She came out with crickets crawling all over her, and when she calmly started picking them off her arms, shoulders and even out of her hair, I could only manage this: “I bet you’d bait your own hook, too.”

She was the catch of my life, and I have caught plenty.

I have fished for everything that swims in Mississippi waters and caught most, and would just as soon catch a bowfin as a marlin. Actually, as I get older, I’d prefer it.

I like catching anything that will bite my hook, pull my line and bend my pole.

I own two boats, a bass boat that has the scars from stumps and alligator bites, and a pontoon boat with scars from another form of “wild life.”

I have hunted about everything legal in the state, killed most of it and eaten it all, at least once. That includes crow — both literally and figuratively — raccoon, opossum and “opossum on the half shell,” aka armadillo.

The only snake I have eaten is rattlesnake, and it was only because it tried to bite me first. I shot him in self-defense, and ate him out of spite with a cold Abita Amber.

When faced with a choice, I always go for the gusto. Life is too short to drink anything with a last name of Lite or Light.

And to heck with health warnings; I say pop open an oyster and suck it right out of the shell. Then fry a few, too, of course, just for good measure.

Louisiana Hot Sauce over Tobasco, unless it’s Habanero Tobasco. Best ever.

Redfish over speckled trout, but flounder at the table.

Crickets over worms.

Casting over flipping.

Flyfishing? No, too uncoordinated. True story: Three casts into a marsh flyfishing trip for redfish, two of which hooked the guide and one of which hooked me, the guide turned and said, “Cleveland, didn’t I see you bring a spinning rod on the boat?”

Crocs over Nikes, always. My dress shoes are Crocs. Seriously, they are.

Tequila over whiskey, but sipped slowly.

No salt on the rim, ever, on anything.

Boiled crabs over boiled crawfish, but crawfish over shrimp. And, all three beat the heck out of filet mignon.
Mossy Oak always — hey, I’m a Mississippi boy.

Dove hunting, even in September heat, over duck hunting. I can be cold. I can be wet. I can even be muddy. But any two or all three at one time, never.

Turkey over deer, but rabbit or squirrel at the table.

Sushi? You bet. I call sushi bars bait shops, and remember, the best thing that ever happened to me was at a bait shop.

Hey, that’s pretty much me, and what you just read is what you get.

I hope you will look for me here each week, sometimes to read about my quirky adventures, maybe to swap recipes but preferably to read how I told your story or that of a friend.

Got a good one? Write me at bobbyc7754@yahoo.com.

I’d love to read it.

Others will, too.