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Al Batt - Columnist

Al Batt of rural Hartland, Minnesota is a writer, speaker, storyteller, humorist and birder. Al, who was born and raised on a farm near Hartland, lives in the Batt Cave with his wife Gail (a.k.a. “The Queen B”) and their dog, Towhee, a Belgian Airhead.

Al writes four weekly humor and nature columns for many newspapers and does a radio show about nature three times per week on a number of stations. He writes a number of popular cartoon strips that are syndicated nationally. He has written for a number of magazines and books, including the Chicken Soup For the Soul series. He is a contributing author to the book, Minnesota Bird Watching.

Al appears each week on “Memories and Musings by Al Batt” on KSMQ-TV. He has written for the movies. He speaks at various festivals, conferences and conventions all over the United States. He has been named Birder of the Year by WildBird Magazine. He has received the Ed Franey Conservation Media Award from the Izaak Walton League. He is a former President of the Minnesota Ornithologists’ Union. Al leads tours to Alaska, disappears into the woods whenever he is able, usually on the pretext that he is “taking the dog for a walk,” and speaks to anyone who will listen. His mother thinks he is special.

I am not much of a fisherman.  I know that a lot of people are hooked on fishing, but not me. I was once hooked on phonics, but I’ve completed a treatment program for it and I am all right now. 

I have found that there is a big difference between actually fishing and just standing on the shore like an idiot. I don’t know the difference between crank bait and stinky bait—if there really are such things. It is fun fishing, but I really don’t want to catch any fish.  I just don’t like to eat fish that much.  No matter how it is prepared, it still tastes fishy to me.  I am not alone in feeling this way.  Once I was canoeing down the Root River with my wife.  I call it canoeing, she calls it being scared to death.   Anyway, we pulled the canoe up onto the bank of the river and prepared to enjoy the sandwiches we’d brought along.  My sandwich was a little soggy, if I remember correctly.  I should have put it into one of those sandwich bags like my wife did instead of just tossing it into the bottom of a leaky canoe.  Oh, well, live and learn.

Read the rest of the Al's column in our July issue...

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