me is located somewhere deeper than the feelings touched off by more recently arrived fishes like trout, bass, or even suckers. it’s been said before by others who have found themselves addicted to these fish: they’re dinosaurs, dragons, pure predators, living fossils.
for me it is this: when i interact with a gar—hold it in my hands, feel its armor and muscle flexing and really look at it—i’m in contact with the earth not as my familiar home, but as it truly is, stripped of maps, knowledge, and all the other baggage we pile up to create our illusion of understanding and control. a gar in hand is time travel, the 