Getting hooked in America

This morning by Lake Galena I became a fish. In one of the strangest of the small absurdities with which this world is so rife, a fish hook snagged the lace on my sneaker while I walked peacefully through the woods. Some idiot angler had left the hook, attached to twenty feet of nylon line, on the path, and of course it found my foot. After working for quite some time to pull out the hook, I gave up and broke the line so that I could be on my way again. Fishermen, if you do not catch a fish, please do not leave your line and hooks lying around where they can catch a human. The hook was so imbedded in my shoe lace I had to go back to my car and cut through it with wire cutters from my tool box. Isn't this what life is all about in America these days? Hooking humans with randomly abandoned lines?