Hummingbird Ass

A little Florida wisdom for the dreamers who talk bigger than they build

For all my faults, I have never lacked ambition.

Discernment? I’ve missed a few signs.

Emotional intelligence? Let’s just say I have made some bold…misreads.

Character? Unfortunately, I have had seasons where that needed serious attention too.

But ambition? Dreams? Big ideas scribbled in the margins of countless notebooks and journals?

That has always been my bread and butter.

For as long as I can remember, I have been a dreamer. For me, school was less of an institution and more of a planning period for my future. While other kids were taking notes, I was sketching half-baked business ideas, company logos, product designs, and various versions of a life I hoped I might one day build.

I have also always been a talker.

These days, people call that being a “verbal processor,” which sounds a lot more respectable than “guy who says too many things before thinking them through.”

And maybe it’s the salesman in me, but when I get excited about an idea, I often sell it to others before I have fully bought it myself.

I like this part of me. The fun, creative, childlike part that can still imagine what could be.

But it has also bitten me in the butt a few times.

Years ago, I was given a piece of old Florida wisdom that has stayed with me:

That one deserves to be framed, or at very least written with a dry erase marker on my mirror.

It came how all old Florida wisdom should come: from a colorful fishing captain named Jimmy Long from Homosassa, Florida.

I call him Uncle Jimmy, and I have known him since I was a kid.

My dad met Jimmy while Jimmy was trapping gators in the off-season. At the time, my dad was working for FWC and, as the story goes, snuck up on Jimmy after someone accused him of illegally harvesting gators in a residential area.

For the record, he wasn’t.

More than thirty years later, Jimmy has become someone I consider somewhat of a mentor in saltwater fly fishing.

When Jimmy offered this particular piece of advice, we were somewhere south of Homosassa, waiting for another string of tarpon to push up on the flat.

Jimmy was taking slow drags off a Marlboro Red.

I was standing on the bow, shooing away the silence.

I was running my mouth about ideas I had for taking my podcast to “the next level.” Plans. Projects. Big swings. And strategy.

Most of the technical details were well outside Jimmy’s scope of understanding, and probably even farther outside his scope of interest.

But while he may not have known much about outdoor media, he knew an alligator mouth when he saw one.

He did not make a speech. He did not sound especially concerned with my feelings. He just inserted the advice between drags, calm as could be.

“Don’t let your alligator mouth overload your hummingbird ass.”

An alligator mouth belongs to dreamers. Talkers. Builders. Overcommitters. People who can see ten futures before breakfast.

The problem is not dishonesty.

The problem is capacity.

Sometimes your mouth is writing checks your life cannot cash.

I know that feeling.

I can confuse my excitement with my commitment. I can mistake the ability to imagine something for the ability to carry it out. I can say yes to the version of me I hope to become before asking whether the current version of me is read to put in the discipline, margin, or maturity to follow through.

The older I get, the more I am learning that ambition needs companions.

Discipline.

Humility.

Patience.

Awareness.

There is nothing wrong with having an alligator mouth. Some of the best things in my life started as something I talked about before I fully knew how to do it.

The self-help world calls that manifesting.

Southerners call it running your mouth and hoping your legs catch up.

Regardless of what you call it, there is a problem when your life is always overpromised and under-built.

I still want to dream big. I hope I never lose that.

But I am trying to dream with a better understanding of my own hummingbird ass.

To count the cost.

To let my yes mean something.

To remember that not every idea needs to be announced, not every opportunity needs to be chased, and not every dream belongs in this season.

Uncle Jimmy probably was not trying to give me a life philosophy.

Or maybe he was. It is hard to tell with old timers.

But like a lot of good advice, it found me anyway.

Keep the ambition.

Keep the imagination.

Keep the willingness to dream.

But at some point, the dream has to become commitment to the work.

And the work will tell you what you are actually ready to carry.

So keep dreaming.

Just don’t let your alligator mouth overload your hummingbird ass.

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LET’S TALK ABOUT IT

Share some of your favorite Southern Sayings. Would love to mine for more wisdom within these fun phrases.

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Hunter Leavine is the host of the Captains Collective Podcast and cofounder of Drifter Fish Club. His work explores fishing as a lens into culture, travel, and the people who shape the places we love.

Sponsors: Skinny Water Culture, Purpose Built Optics, Turtle Box Audio, YETI, My Captain, and Hone Health.

Learn about traveling with the Drifter Fish Club HERE.

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I’m also grateful to be partnering with Hone Health this summer. A lot of my recent work has been circling around what it means to take better care of ourselves—holistically.

If you’re interested in taking a more honest look at your health, longevity, and focus, you can learn more below.

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