David Siskind | Sunday, 7 June 2026
This is another organ recital so I’ll keep it short. I’m going a little nuts, generally sidelined for the week by my pinky-fix. I'm unable to shower (TMI?),wearing a rigid dressing, fixed at maybe 105 degree angle. It’s also challenging my ability to use a knife and fork. I can use chopsticks and otherwise eat one-handed. I did manage a casting practice in Riverside Park - right hand only, no hauls. So with my left arm in a sling and my HT4 over lined with the SA Trout WF5F, I tried to replicate the slowed down pace and resultant rod action experienced while casting streamers last week in Wyoming. I failed. I couldn’t feel it and couldn’t see it. Bummer. I’ll have to explore this after I lose the bandages and return to LA.
During post-op meeting with Dr. Choeka I found out that my theory of the injurious event was incorrect. It was not the result of injury due to ulnar nerve compression on a long flight but the wages of time and use. Correlation isn't causation. Apparently, I have an over-long ulnar nerve that easily rolls out of its tunnel, and was repeatedly pinched and stressed by my weird anatomy and life-time of movement. The good doctor had to go in there and put it back in its groove, fashion a little strap from surrounding tissues to keep it in place and close everything up. The nerve then has a chance to heal. I preferred to think of this as the result of trauma rather than aging but, no. I’m getting old. I’ve got an appointment for a follow up on Monday - I'm hoping I get rid of the dressing then.
Most interesting aspect of the procedure was the anesthesia. They blocked all sensation from the shoulder down. My entire arm felt like a saddlebag filled with sand for fourteen hours. It took that long before I could wiggle my thumb visibly. Until then I could locate each one of my fingers and imagine that I was moving them but it was all illusory. It was absolutely impossible to move. I’m not making light of the fact that people struggle with permanent neural disruption, but I did get to sample the experience. I am reminded of the great movie The Diving Bell and The Butterfly.Julian Schnabel, the broken crockery artist, directed it. Watch it.
Now is a NY moment. The Knicks are making a run and we’re hoping for the first championship since 1973. I went to a bunch of those games back then. The team featured Frazier, Lucas, Monroe, Bradley and Debusschere. They were long range bombers before the age of the three-point shot. I’m not sure how we got the tickets, but we went to a few games watching from the nosebleed seats, sitting in clouds of cigarette smoke trapped under the roof of Madison Square Garden. This year's Knicks team has captured the affection of New Yorkers in a similar way. It's about time. People are having a lot of fun with it. I understand President Trump intends to go to game three. I can't imagine it. It seems to me he risks an unpleasant reception although you never know. The cheap seats are going for $7500 per on the secondary market and the crowd will hardly be representative of the gen pop. Maybe they are Trumpers. Don’t think so though. He should skip it.
I’ve got a lot of good fishing planned through the end of the year and need to get myself into shape. Aside from local fisheries I’ve scheduled tarpon at month's end, cobia in the summer, stripers in September, reds in October and golden dorado in November. Seems like a heavy lift that will take some training and luck to make it work. In the meantime there are carp and corbina. My buddy Ben Crump is waiting for me to show him the beach. He’s finding some awesome carp in the River. He sent me a pic of a real hog he caught a couple of weeks ago (posted above). They're in there. I need to go to there.
Cheers,
David Siskind