Today's Tribune column: "Only sissies catch and release."

Ifuns they come back with a mess of EDITs and TIFs, maybe they kin put 'em in a Cajun cooker top o' the new parkin' gay-rodge.

BAYLOR: Only sissies catch and release

SOUTHERN INDIANA — It was dawn’s earliest light in the damp cold of an Ohio Valley winter morning, and down in the muddy creek bottoms of Falling Run, a smudgy tableau was lifting, sketched in drab shades of brown and gray.

Invisible waterborne contaminants gurgled past an exposed mound of illegally dumped tires. Nearby, where imperceptibly decaying rubber met an abandoned wooden packing crate, rustlings in the dead leaves gradually betrayed the presence of three shivering, huddled forms, two of them clad in Army surplus desert camouflage.

The third, smaller and mannequin-like, was perched on an empty plastic milk jug, wearing a straw hat and wielding an unlicensed Dobro®.

TWANG!

“A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go,

Heigh ho, the Mayor must go, a hunting we will go.”

TWANG!

From below a scarlet, grease-smeared doo rag, Councilman Cappuccino glared at his ventriloquist’s dummy.

“Be vewwwy quiet! We’re hunting EDITs.”