Love blossoms on the banks of Boy Scout Lake, on a hot summer night beneath a full Nebraska moon--the air heavy with the stench of "Catfish Charlie". "Stinkbait" was the term we used--but it's sold as "Catfish Charlie Dip Bait;...extra-sticky formula that's irresistible to catfish." A by-product from off the floor of Omaha's slaughterhouses, the deep maroon curd-like substance comes in three "formulas"--blood, cheese and shad, and is purchased in 12-oz. tubs, like margarine or cottage cheese. Nebraska allows fishing all night long, two poles per person, two hooks on a line. (advisory: I was last in Nebraska in 1976--things may have changed). The bait of choice is a piece of sponge thoroughly soaked with Catfish Charlie. Don't get it on you--Plutonium is less deadly. The prairie is peaceful at night and the heavens are an endless swath of stars, all reflected in ripples around the red and white bobber--signaling another bullhead asking to be caught. Sandhill cranes fly overhead--veering away from the gut-curdling fumes of the stinkbait. It's isn't really a stink--it's like skunk, it's olfactory devastation on a scale where the body reacts at a different, more visceral level. Once you open that tub, the smell doesn't go away. Inhale too much, and it can cloud your mind. "Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it Catfish Charlie (Shakespeare, (with liberties taken) Midsummer Night's Dream)"

I see my red door and I want it painted black No colors anymore I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes I see a line of cars and they're all painted black With flowers and my love both never to come back I see people turn their heads and quickly look away Like a new born baby it just happens every day I look inside myself and see my heart is black I see my red door, I must have it painted black Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts It's not easy facin' up when your whole world is black No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue I could not foresee this thing happening to you If I look hard enough into the settin' sun My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes I see a red door and I want it painted black No colors anymore I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes I wanna see your face, painted black Black as night, black as coal I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black Yeah!