A Texan wanted to go ice-fishing. He'd read books on the subject, and finally, after getting all the necessary gear together, he made for the nearest frozen body of water to the North.
After positioning his foot-stool, he started to make a circular cut in the ice. Suddenly -- from above -- a voice boomed, "THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!" Startled, the Texan moved further down the ice, poured a Thermos of coffee, began to cut yet another hole. Again, from the heavens, the voice bellowed, "THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!"
The Texan, now quite worried, moved way down to the opposite end of the ice, sat up his stool, and tried again to cut his hole. The voice came once more: "THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!" He stopped, looked upward, and said, " Is that you LORD?" The voice replied, "No, I'm the Ice-Arena Manager!"