I grew up listening to Lynyrd Skynyrd. I'm a product of the 70's in Palm Beach County, and I may be a little redneck: back in the day it was pig roasts and keg parties. When their plane went down, our high school flew the flag at half mast. You following? I know every note of every song they ever did, yet I never became a fan of the "new" Skynyrd. That is until I saw them at the Tortuga music festival on Lauderdale beach. I was floored, I had goosebumps and I loved sharing that with my son, AJ. A week later I get to fish with a righteous man and Skynyrd's lead guitarist Ricky Medlock. The man is a fishing fool, and now he's a friend. If you had told me while I was growing up that I'd have a member of Skynyrd's phone number, I'd have laughed you out of there. We fished with Capt Ray Rosher on the Miss Britt, his mate and brother in law Jason, my buddy Mitch and our two contest winners, Rob and Nick. Ricky's the long haired one. We had a bast.