When you're a little kid and go fishing, you naturally want to keep everything. At least I did. And when I think back to the countless stringers of tiny bluegills that my grandfather lovingly dragged back to the house for me, I can't help but smile. Oh, my grandmother would cook them sometimes, and like a normal little kid, I'd be pumped, take a few bites, then fill up on the French fries she'd make with them. Most of those 'gills became fertilizer for my grandfather's tomato plants. But we surely had fun catching them.