Today I strapped on my snowshoes Kaczynski-style, and ventured out into the real world. I was apprehensive at first, thinking that in the four days I had been removed, the world must have changed. It wouldn’t have surprised me to see dogs and cats living in perfect harmony, hover cars zooming around, or even a world where trout had evolved to be the dominant species on the planet (kind of like Planet of the Trout). I am pretty sure I freaked out the lady behind the counter at the gas station because as she handed me my smokes she mentioned something about a wild look in my eye. I couldn’t hear her though as I was to busy screaming at the guy behind me in a fit of socialization overload. I eventually regained my composure enough to get on with my wifey assigned task of gift shopping (with a side stop at Lexington Avenue Brewery). Down at the brewery I noticed a poster that sums up our shopping habits here at SCOF.
I was personally kind of hoping that Speedo’s would be the new black, but I digress. This year has been a rough one for most of the fly fishing industry, but none have been hit harder than your local flyshop owner. I am not the first one and hopefully won’t be the last one to say that it’s a good thing to support your local flyshop. The guy who stands across the fly shop counter from you does not drive a Benz, or have millions tied up in Halliburton. He definitely will listen to you every time you have a picture of your newest slab, and he also will probably let you take every rod in the rack out for a test cast while full well knowing you are gonna be back next week to do it all over again. He does all this while making barely enough money to support a family, but the real kick in the nuts is, the poor bastard probably gets to fish even less than you. So this holiday season, we here at SCOF feel that it’s time we all clear our collective “shop rat” consciences and go buy something from the guy down the street. Lord knows he could use the business.