Here's To The Good Guys!

In my last column I was on a rant (and a little rave…or some might say rage) and a good friend of mine suggested I should change the name of my column to “Tyrade” (correctly spelled tirade)…not a bad idea and I will take it under consideration. However, the election is now behind us and we all need to move forward with our lives. If you don’t like the way things turned out, get involved in the process. As citizens we have an obligation to do that…we can all make a difference. Let’s not get too cynical (preaching to myself, here). A New Year is upon us…a fresh start…time to focus on future and live in the present. Do I hear Halleluiah, Amen? Make it your best year ever.

Now, time to change gears on you. I wanted to focus some energy on a few people that have made a huge difference in the fly fishing community…or also known as “the good guys (and gals)”. This past few months have we have lost several or our friends that have literally helped to “change the world”.

In 1999, I had the good fortune of attending the Fly Fishing Federation national conclave and as a result, got to meet Mel Krieger and see him receive the Ambassador Award. This honor is presented annually to the fly fisher who meets certain high standards of sportsmanship, fishing skill and stream side etiquette in taking and conserving game fish internationally. He most certainly deserves it. I was able to get to know him and his wife Fanny a little and I was very impressed with Mel and his commitment to all things good in the fly fishing world. He was not only one of the most proficient casters and teachers, but he was much more complex than that – a combination of a poet, historian, world traveler, artist, conservationist, and much, much more – truly a Renaissance Man if there ever was one. He was the recipient of several other awards. Passion and compassion just oozed out of the guy…sadly, he left us on October 7th, 2008. Eighty great years of giving it all he had. We will miss him…a bunch.

Ed Story – when you hear the name, you just think “class act” and all around great guy…a gentleman in the purest sense of the word. I know that I have personally caught more fish on a Crackleback than any other fly in my boxes (and I have a whole lot of flies in my boxes – half of which I have no idea what they are or where I got them) and it is my favorite fly to tie. That was only one of Ed’s many creations, but it was a doozey. Thanks for sharing, Ed. Everyone Ed met became a friend…he was always willing to share an idea, to teach, and to inspire. His enthusiasm and love for our sport and conservation literally made the Land of Fly Fishing a better place to visit. The Feather-Craft mail order catalogue has a huge following, including celebrities and other famous folk from around the globe. The personal commentary from Ed made it that much more enjoyable (“I love this item and would not fish without it” – Ed) and thousands of people have looked forward to their next issue for many years. Little known was the fact that Ed was also a very big supporter of Project Healing Waters and a veteran himself – his shop sold more PHW gear than anyone else in the country, with a portion of the sale going directly back to the program. Most importantly, Ed was a family man…I know his family will miss him tremendously. He moved on to better waters August of 2008. I want to offer a big thank you to the Story family for sharing this wonderful guy with us. He touched so many of us in a very special way…his legacy will live on.

We lost another hero and good friend this year that had touched many lives and most certainly has left the world better than he found it. George Purvis…a name probably not known to many of you, but a huge champion of the conservation cause nonetheless. George left us on August 15th at the age of 83. We met through some mutual friends in the 1960’s and I remember being impressed with the number of things he was working on at the time. George was a pioneer that committed his life to a number of initiatives that have positively and profoundly impacted the state of Arkansas – particularly with regard to hunting and fishing. He was totally dedicated to improving the state of conservation and was known for his ethics and commitment to educating folks. He was a writer, an artist, a photographer, produced and starred in videos, had his own radio show, and published a magazine for the state. His work involved a multitude of different media. He loved duck hunting, but was also known to fish. If you enjoy the great outdoors in Arkansas on occasion, you probably owe George a little gratitude. Husband, Father, Grandfather…an outdoorsman in every sense of the word. Thanks, George.

There were others that we lost this past year and will dearly miss. We still have many heroes among the living that are making a difference. I have two take homes for all of you…first, take a moment and think about who your heroes are…those people that have made a profound impact on your life…those people that have touched you or those around you in a special way…those that have handled themselves with style and grace…those that have served others so faithfully…taught you, motivated you, challenged you, or cared about you…how lucky are we to have them. Tell them you appreciate them and thank then for what you have done. Secondly, aspire to be one of them…we need more heroes in this world…set your sights high and reach for that goal. You can do both of those things. You think about that…TL

A Gross Violation of the Public Trust

"The mystery of government is not how Washington works, but how to make it stop." - P. J. O'Rourke



I had no intention of writing a column about politics and the upcoming election this month, for crying out loud, however, I just can’t help myself. If you are not mad as hell right now, there really is something wrong with you. The recent debacle that occurred on Wall Street and in Washington D.C. is trickling down all the way to Main Street. It really has nothing to do with whether you have lost money or not (although, my guess is most of you have) and it does not matter at all what your politics are. I am not going to do any finger pointing nor give you a lengthy explanation of why this happened. It has happened and it is what it is. But I am going to offer a suggestion for what we can do about it.

My recommendation is that we throw the bums out. Every stinking one of them. NOW!

There is an amazing phenomenon that occurs in this great country of ours. Most Americans don’t like Congress but they like their Congressman. Therein lies the problem. We are suckers for a multi million dollar campaign. Both sides lie…they prey on our fear…they convince us that they are “it”…we usually have two choices…and we end up picking the lesser of two evils. I truly believe that it is time for a legitimate third party in this country but that is a discussion for another day. I also hope that each and every one of you will get out and vote…as an American citizen, it is your duty.

One of the stories that caught my eye just before the $700 Billion Bailout was the discussion by our esteemed leaders that they did not want it called a “bailout” but rather they wanted it to be called a “rescue” because they didn’t like the way bailout sounded. Are you kidding me? These morons in the Beltway created and allowed this mess and then they want to make sure that it sounds like they are doing something good for us. I think it should be called the “The Great Train Robbery of the American Citizens” but that is only one man’s opinion. Frankly, I would like to see some criminal charges in the midst of this whole thing and I can damn guarantee you that if you do enough digging you will find them. What I find most remarkable is the fact that the same people who don't know quite how this all happened think that they know how to fix it. Just a short while ago they were all tied up with hearings on steroids in baseball. Are you kidding me?

Okay, so here we are, in the middle of blog about fishing, conservation, and other stuff, listening to this old coot rant and rave about politics. What does this have to do with fishing, you ask? Well, a few things and I ask that you hang with me for just a moment.

Number one, choose your candidates wisely. Don’t make the assumption that just because your candidate belongs to a certain party that they even remotely represent you and your beliefs. You have to do your homework and you need to be wise and think. If you vote straight ticket, that is intellectually lazy. To my point, there were career politicians on both sides of the aisles that have blood on their hands on this recent financial collapse. Watch what they do, not just what they say. Hold them accountable. They are counting on you liking them, even if you don’t like Congress. What is going to take for you to see through the smoke and mirrors? We need to know where the candidates stand on issues near and dear to our hearts – and for outdoorsmen and outdoorswomen, one of those issues is conservation.

Number two, for goodness sakes, don’t take any of this too seriously. Only sweat the things that you are in control of. You can control your vote, but not the person you vote for. You can vote them in office, or better yet, you can vote them out of office if you can muster the courage. But, the truth is, you have better things to do with your time. More importantly, you can make the time to go fishing and count your blessings…I know you have them…I know because I have them too. And me, I am going fishing and I am going to light up my favorite cigar and start counting. I hope you will join me. Drop me a line and share with me your own personal bailout plan. You think about that…TL

The King's Game - To Whom Does It Belong?

A recent discussion with an old friend got me to thinking (generally a very dangerous thing). He had moved to the Northeast United States a number of years ago and is an avid fly fisherman and upland bird hunter. Not only is he a committed outdoorsman and conservationist, but he happens to raise and train some of the finest bird dogs I have ever been in the presence of. I have shared many a delicious meal with him consisting of pheasant and quail served with wild rice and gravy and I must tell you, it is something to remember. In a recent conversation, he was grumbling about all of the new development in his neck of the woods and how most of the land that he had hunted and fished the majority of his adult life had been developed into homes or private hunting and fishing clubs. It is a reality in our modern world, but heartbreaking nonetheless. 

This brings up the sticky issue of the privatization and monetizing of our natural resources. Now, I have been around a long time, but not long enough to have come over to this country on a ship from England with the Colonists. I was actually born here. There are some of my buddies who think I am older than dirt, but I just so happen to out-fish all of them. Anyway, private land ownership is an important part of this country, but so is the protection of our natural resources for the public good. I am neither a lawyer nor a politician, and I am also not independently wealthy. Consequently, I am no expert on the “rules” and I can’t buy my way into private land access. What I can do is “rant and rave” a bit and share my two cents with anyone who will listen. 

The beginnings of wildlife law can be traced back to principles that were in early Roman law. The general idea was the wild animals do not have owners and they belonged to the person that could capture or kill them. Consequently, taking wildlife was considered a personal right. However, personal rights depend upon those in charge (or put another way, the government) and have been either enjoyed, or endured. Beginning just after 400 A.D. and up unto the Norman times, England was a succession of kings. Typically, they had an interest in the land and all of its wildlife with an extremely selfish motive. In their view, the wildlife belonged to the king and he maintained all sovereignty over the land and the wild animals and would grant permission to hunt. In Europe, wildlife continued to be seen as the property of the elite. In 1389, there was a decree issued that stated the pursuit of game was limited to those that owned the land. Non-landowners could not even possess dogs or equipment used in taking game. A feud between those of privilege and the common people was in full force. This was one of the very reasons that led to our founding fathers leaving England.

When our ancestors came to North America, they found a place that was full of fish and game, and other bountiful natural resources, that had provided for the Native Americans for thousands of years. The early Colonists hunted and fish freely and felt it their natural right to do so. One of the founding philosophies was the equality and freedom of men. Liberty from the control of kings was about individual freedom and self-government. Water, fish and wildlife are not mentioned in our founding documents but it was an important building block for our new country. Here is what somebody a whole lot more famous than me; and most likely a whole lot smarter than me had to say about it:

"Above all, we should realize that the effort toward this end is essentially a democratic movement. It is…in our power…to preserve game…for…all lovers of nature, and to give reasonable opportunities for the exercise of the skill of the hunter, whether he is or is not a man of means."

                                                            – Theodore Roosevelt, 1893

What is my point? Ladies and gentlemen, we must fight aggressively for the public trust and the common man. Capitalism is wonderful and should be encouraged in this free land of ours. But we must also work hard to drive a consciousness of “shared grace” that extends to “everyman”. If we don’t stay diligent about that, it may not be there for us to enjoy with the exception of a few. And me, I never want to be one of “them” – the elite (I haven’t been invited in anyway). This country is too great to allow it to return full circle to the place we left for a bigger dream. There is too much blood buried in our ground to let that happen. It may not matter to you, but I can guarantee it will matter to future generations. You think about that…TL

Beware the Inebriated Armadillo!

If you encounter this creature, walk backwards very slowly…do not make eye contact…and turn and run for the hills. They are known to be unpredictable, and their behavior can border on aggressive and sometimes violent. If there is a shortage of long-neck beer in your neighborhood, look no further than the southwestern cousin of our beloved opossum, the armadillo. These little critters have been moving up from the southwest toward the north and have been headed our way for some time. It must be related to global warming and a need to escape some of the brutal heat down there. The dead giveaway on their origins is their Texas accent – it gives them away every time. Never matter…here they come and you better get ready. Just take a drive down the highway and you will see them splattered…I mean scattered…everywhere.

I know what you are thinking…what in God’s name is this nut bag, Ty Livingstone, talking about? What is your point, man? On a recent trip to northern Arkansas, my fishing guide and I were tooling down a country highway in his pickup, towing our drift boat, and we came along a sight to behold. An armadillo that had been knocked unconscious (okay, it was dead…and it was more likely vehicular mammal-slaughter) and it was lying flat on its back, feet up in the air. Some kind soul had strategically placed a beer bottle on its underbelly (I am sure it was to help ease the pain from the accident) and it appeared to be drinking from the bottle. It really hit my funny bone and I laughed hysterically for a while, followed by intermittent giggling throughout the day. It was just plain funny. The guide informed me that this was a new “tradition” in the area and that you will start to see this sight everywhere. I am not positive, but I somehow think the opossum are involved. There are also some conspiracy theorists that suggest the raccoons may have a hand in this also.

This has been an interesting year for many of us…maybe not so fun, but interesting nonetheless. This will be a bruising election year with probably few winners (even among the winners). We are faced with real issues – serious inflation – food, gas, and other stuff is going up, up, up with no end in sight. There are lots of negative things going and if you let it get to you, it just won’t do you any good. You have to find a way to deal with things and some plain old-fashioned humor is a pretty good place to start. My friends down in the Ozarks have long been famous for turning manure into apple butter. I see the armadillo and beer bottle marriage to be a continuation of that theme. You take road kill and add trash and you come up with a pretty strange sight that can make folks chuckle for a moment. I am not happy about the dead animal and nobody hates litter more than me, but the combination is just down right funny. If that makes you mad, well I am truly sorry (not really…not deep down inside I’m not…). There is always tragedy in our world but looking at things a different way can change your view. It is really all about perspective.

So, what exactly is my point? Lighten up…take a chill pill…have a laugh…don’t take yourself or life too seriously. It could be worse…you could be an armadillo. Me? I am going to go for a long walk, watch a sunset, and have a cold adult beverage. I might even sit down tonight and watch my favorite comedy…maybe have a few laughs. You think about that…TL

To Whom Do We Owe This Freedom We Enjoy?

Sometimes in life, things occur to me that strike me as genius, only to find out that I have discovered the most obvious things that all of my friends and family already knew. Often these revelations happen to be an idea that my young grandchildren (usually the ones under ten) knew all along. Either I am really slow, or they are just very wise. Perhaps it is a combination…I really don’t know.

One of these recent flashes of brilliance (or not!) came to me after a recent club meeting for Ozark Fly Fishers in St. Louis. They moved the meeting location and I got lost on the way there and almost bailed and went home. They were featuring a speaker from the Missouri Department of Conservation on the new fishing program for kids. I wanted to hear what she had to say so I was hell-bent on finding the meeting place. I got there, a little late, but made it. I always like to hear about things that get kids out fishing. I enjoyed her presentation but there was a special surprise at the meeting that I did not know about until I got there.

There was a young man by the name of Ken Morrow that gave a presentation on a program called Project Healing Waters. I had heard of this but I am ashamed to admit that I knew very little about it. Mr. Morrow gave a very good presentation and he showed a video that touched me very deeply. He is a disabled veteran himself having done several tours and is now retired from the military. He is participating in this program as a volunteer, serving as the Regional Coordinator for the Southern Region. Ken lives in Springfield, Missouri and I found him to be a very pleasant and enthusiastic fellow. In the video that Ken played for us hearing about a soldier that was brought back from the brink of darkness by fly fishing really hit me hard in the gut. It was a powerful message and I am really glad to know that Ozark Fly Fishers is going to get behind the program. If you go their web-site (http://www.projecthealingwaters.org/) you can find out more, view some video (they were even featured on ESPN!), and see their sponsors and some of their board members. FFF and Trout Unlimited have both made a commitment to them and you can even donate money from the site if you so choose.

Across the Atlantic Ocean, there is a little coastal village in France called Colleville-sur-Mer, next to an area in the Normandy region, which, once upon a time was referred to as Omaha Beach. In this village, there is an American cemetery that contains row upon row of identical white crosses and stars of David. They are immaculately kept and they commemorate the American soldiers that gave their lives in World War II. If you ever have a chance to visit this special place, you will never be the same.

What was my thought that should have been so obvious? It was this: The freedom that I enjoy has not been free. Blood has been shed across the globe for my family – me, my wife, my children, my grandchildren, and those not even born yet. We owe a great big thank you to those who have so faithfully served our great country and its citizens. When I sit by my fireplace on a cold winter evening sipping a glass of single malt scotch, dreaming of a good cigar, flipping through my favorite fishing book and petting my faithful bird dog, it is awfully easy to take all of that goodness for granted. I look forward to helping out with Ozark Fly Fishers and the Project Healing Waters. I want to support those that have had my back all these years. I hope you will consider it as well. It is the least we can do. You think about that…TL

Don't Throw the Dog Out With the Bathwater

I probably should not admit this, but I am partial to dogs. My friends that love cats might get mad at me, but I hope that they can see past my bent and still accept me for who I am. I was attacked by a wild farm cat as a child in Iowa and I have deep psychological scars…but that is a whole ‘nother story. I am a dog lover…always have been…always will be…and I am highly partial to big dogs and bird dogs. Of all the dogs I have owned over the years, a German Shorthair named Hemmingway dredges up some of the fondest memories for me. He was both a bird chaser and loved to fish (at least hang out with me while I fished…he had a hard time holding a fly rod). He and I had one distinct difference – he liked cats…but I never held it against him. What a creature he was. And, I don’t think he held it against me.

Now that I have been “waxing poetic”, I am going to shift gears and kick into random rant mode. I had my grandkids over the other evening and we went for a short walk around the neighborhood. In the cul de sac near my house, there was one of those plastic grocery store bags that people wear as a glove when cleaning up after man’s best friend (to scoopa da poopa), so kindly filled with animal waste and tied up, AND LEFT BY THE LAMPPOST! So, I picked it up and carried it home and tossed it in my trash. A few days later, I was out for a walk and, lo and behold, what did I see but the same sight on the street at the edge of our storm sewer. I picked up that one and put it in the trash too. Now, what in the hell am I to make of this? Is this dog crap, or more aptly put, CRAPPY DOG OWNERS?! This is one of those things that really force you to downgrade your opinion of humanity. These folks were conscientious enough to scoop the poop, but despicable enough to toss that plastic bag of trash into the public domain. If I catch one of them doing it there will be hell to pay. This feisty old fart will pull out his spray-can of “whoop-ass” out and settle it the old fashioned way. I can damn guarantee you that. This random act of idiocy by a fellow pet owner is like the thief that steals your wallet, removes the cash and mails your driver’s license back to you. I just don’t get it.

The next complaint I have about these “crappy dog owners” is the genre that does not even bother to exercise and walk their pets. Getting a dog seemed like a really cool idea at the time, but, oh, what a hassle. So rather than doing the right thing, they stick their dogs out in the backyard to run around and bark. Unfortunately, these same folks seem to acquire unusually stupid (that are usually trained horribly) dogs that bark at everything (including roly-poly’s…known as sow-bugs in the Ozarks) and eventually end up with a severe case of laryngitis. It strikes me that perhaps stupid owners are attracted to stupid dogs. For crying out loud, if you want to get a dog, then train it and care for it. If you don’t want to go to those efforts, then be kind to the animal and let someone who does care take it home.

Which brings me to my closing thoughts…I really have loved my dogs over the years and have taken the best care of them that I could and if you decide to get a pet, love it and love it right. Having said that, I don’t get the trend today with buying insurance for animals, doing major surgery (hip replacements) on them, and even putting braces on the critters. It just strikes me as really, really weird. When I was a kid on the farm, when a dog was in bad shape, we did the most humane thing we could and took it out in the middle of nowhere and put it out of its misery – it was the humane thing to do. Honestly…we did it out of love. My friends that are animal rights activists are going to get really mad at me, but I think we ought to be taking care of people first…but maybe we make an exception for those crappy dog owners. You think about that…TL

Seek First To Understand, Then To Be Understood...

I am not sure what my problem has been lately, but damn have I been cranky. I have not been out fishing enough and I have been sick and tired of the rainy, wintry weather. In the middle of all of that everyone around me seems to be down too. As I reflected inward, I wondered if it was just me. Maybe…but I don’t think so.

Because I was so moody, I was overly sensitive to lots of negativity around me. I noticed conflict among my friends, fighting in my family, and lots of critical comments by those around me regarding others. It bothered me…I mean really, really bothered me. Life is too short…way too short. And then, I was at a meeting with some friends of mine a few weeks ago and they started making disparaging comments about a young fella in attendance that had on some funky clothes, a scraggly beard, and a head full of hair. Their attitude really aggravated me…who the heck do they think they are? Whether we remember it or not (and most of my friends don’t remember much of anything and what they do remember is embellished exaggerated baloney…you know what I am talking about!) many of us used to be “that guy”. Oh, the 40’s had rayon dresses and viscose suits, in the 50’s it might have been jeans rolled up and ducktails, the 60’s had its “hippie” stage, the 70’s acid rock, the 80’s Madonna (yuck!), and so on. What’s my point? Every generation has their thing. News flash – inside of those clothes, hair, and skin is a HUMAN BEING! Just because somebody is different than you does not mean you are better. If you have a problem with that, drop me a line.

Open your mind. If you were to take a minute and get to know that person that doesn’t fit into your teeny weenie box, you might just find out they are more like you then you could imagine. We really need to look for the best in each other. Forgive and forget. Live and let live. Learn and love. Seek first to understand, then to be understood. God gave you two ears and one mouth…if you are really lucky, he might have even granted you style and grace. Every transaction in life presents you with an opportunity to make a difference in somebody else’s life – for better or worse. The choice is yours.

I found out last week that an old friend of mine just passed away. I saw him in the fall and he looked great. He was working on a lifelong project that was his grand vision and it was actually coming together in a very exciting way. He was full of passion, piss and vinegar. He was fired up and his dream was starting to come true. It was a project of mega proportions. In January, unbeknownst to me, he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer and this past week he has moved on to his next adventure. I am really going to miss him. Godspeed, my friend.

At long last, this past weekend we actually had some nice sunny weather and I am crawling out of my funk. I hope the rest of you are too. Go out and do something nice for somebody else. It might just cheer you up. And remember, maybe, just maybe, it’s not about you. Noodle on that one boys...noodle on that one. What do my points have to do with fishing? More than you might realize. You think about that…TL

Wading In Over My Head

I was out fishing this past week, by myself, in a remote area on an Ozark stream, all by myself and thoroughly enjoying the solitude. I ran into deer, eagles, raccoons, wild turkey, some muskrat, and even had the good fortune of acquainting myself with a few wild fish. It was a well needed day out; a mental health outing, an attitude adjustor, nourishment for my soul. I had been plagued by cabin fever like most everyone else and really needed to make the time. It was a cold day, but I was dressed for it and the cold weather gave me a good excuse to tap my flask of sipping whiskey for warmth. Life was good…really good.

Except for one small problem – no-one has ever confused me with being the sharpest tool in the shed and I have also had a notorious reputation as an aggressive wader when fly fishing. My problem is my inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. When I start seeing fishy water, I head toward it and “Katy, bar the door!” What happens after that is anybody’s guess and on more occasions than I care to admit, I have put myself in a “less than ideal” situation. So…back to my recent fishing outing…the temperature was around 25 degrees (which is fine if you are dry and dressed appropriately) and the water was up due to the recent snow and rain. Even though the water levels were a few feet up, it was fishable and wade-able (for those of you intelligent enough to know your limits). I was wading toward the bank and the riverbed started coming up and I assumed (you know the old adage about assuming…I achieved it) that it would continue that way. However, there was a big hole between the bank and me and I waded in over the top of my waders and, whoosh, water down to my toes and up through my panty hose (well, my skivvies, actually). I was baptized and achieved the status of “dumb-ass”. My mother would not be proud and my wife was furious with me when I got home. I had to walk several miles back to my car and was a little chilly when I got there. Cranking the heat on the way home and a little McDonald’s coffee went a long way. The hot shower back at the ranch saved me. I survived to tell the tale.

This is not the first time I had made this mistake and I have a sneaking suspicion that it will not be the last. I have a reputation among my fishing buddies for doing the foolish and I think they enjoy laughing at me and not with me. I am starting to rethink my wading practices. I heard a story about Lee Wulff swimming in full waders to prove that you wouldn’t drown, but I don’t think I am half the man that Mr. Wulff was and I really don’t want to die on the river…at least not yet.

Which brings me to my random thought and point of my story – I think wading in over my (our) waders is a metaphor for life. It is something that we just shouldn’t do and if we do, it may have some very serious consequences. I was just reading a story in the news about some of the mortgage market collapse due to our pending recession and the potential for a government bail-out. The banks made plenty of stupid (reckless) loans and buyers got greedy. They featured a couple that had purchased a home that cost more than a million ($1,000,000) dollars when they both had high flying jobs when they purchased the house. One of them lost their job and they can no longer afford to make the payment. A proposed bail-out program would give them a break and forgive part of their note to “save” them and help them keep their house. Here is my proposed program – “DON”T BUY A HOUSE YOU CAN”T AFFORD!” or put in us fishing folks language – “DON’T WADE IN OVER YOUR WADERS!”. I have no sympathy for those folks…travel light and only buy that which you can afford. I think they need to hit up a rich uncle or something (and his name is not Sam). Now, you might be thinking, “Ty, you sound like a hypocrite to me…you wade aggressively all the time…at your own peril on occasion.” True…I do. But you won’t hear me crying for help and I will own up to the stupidity of my own decisions. If I had a nickel for every time I have made a stupid mistake, I would be able to pay cash for that million dollar home. But I don’t and I won’t. You think about that…TL.

How Big Is Your Box?

I must have been in a trance…hypnotized by the sound of money jingling in my pocket…lulled into a dream state by the “Siren’s Song”. What was I thinking? What am I talking about? Here is the scene; this holiday season I went to the world’s biggest BIG BOX (starts with a “W”) in search of a gift and bought my wife a new-fangled DVD player (it even plays the ancient technology known as VHS on the same unit). I asked the department manager for help and got Mr. Snot Nosed Technology Genius That Thinks Everyone Else is a Moron (especially me). After putting up with his psychological abuse, I found the unit that I thought we needed. I asked him if it would work with our set-up at home. He responded, “it should if the coaxilator connects to the discombobulator and runs through the hemointoxinator – but make sure you have the sidewinded domathingahicky fed to the back of the unit.” I said, “No problem” and went home utterly depressed. Christmas comes…she opens the gift…loves it…questions whether it will work or not so she can tape and watch her shows…and I say, “No problem” (for the second time). I got to hook it up and nothing works. Perfect. What I do next finds me guilty of the crime and I stand convicted. I run up the nearest Radio Shack (small box) and tell the manager there of my dilemma. I explain what is wrong and he proceeds to tell me I need the Turbo Charged Cable Regulator Instigator (or something like that), goes and gets it and scores the sale. As I was paying, I see a stack of DVD players off to the side and I sheepishly ask, “Oh, you guys have those here?” and he says, proudly, “Yes!” I should have bought it there in the first place. What I received was a good attitude, simple answers and solutions, and service with a smile. When I get home, I hook it up and, viola, it works. What is that worth? Plenty!

Look…I like a deal as much as the next guy. But I also know that you can be haunted by the “get what you pay for” program. We live in a culture that has become addicted to those big boxes and there is a price to pay. It has happened in a number of industries (think hardware stores, sporting goods stores, department stores, and much more) and it dramatically changes the landscape of our communities. Look around you…look hard. It is not a pretty sight. Now look to your local fly shop. The same thing has happened in the fly fishing industry (and hunting, and other outdoor pursuits).

When Trout Unlimited and The Federation of Fly Fishers were spreading across the country and adding clubs and chapters decades ago, the local fly shop owners were usually one of the first to step in and commit their resources (time, money, donations…blood, sweat, and tears) to the cause. Many local clubs grew and thrived thanks to the selfless efforts of these unsung heroes. Ask around and you will find this to be true. How time forgets. I know this was true in our area and others as well. These entrepreneurs have worked very hard for many years building their businesses, only to have their business cannibalized by big competitors. And now, the Big Box Guys (C and B) show up at TU and FFF Headquarters looking for "partnerships", flex their muscles and get all kinds of love. It is tough out there and the least we can do is support our local fly shop. It is the right thing to do. They most certainly have an obligation to run a good shop, offer great products and service, and take care of the customer. But, assuming those things are true, we should be spending our money there.

The moral of the story – you get to pick the size of box that you want to shop (and live) in. It is most certainly a free country and the choice is yours. But, we all have to live with those choices and every decision that we make has a consequence – good or otherwise. All I am asking you to do is to think about the effects of those choices that you make. Please. Thank you. You think about that. TL

Competition - Does It Really Never Exist?

At the risk or irritating some of my “codger” friends I want to open up the discussion (and some might say, the proverbial “can o’ worms) regarding competition in fly fishing. Fly fishing has always viewed itself above competition. It has been classified as a gentleman’s sport by many and the recent development of outdoor sports television (OLN, VS, the Outdoor Channel, etc.) has spawned some new fly fishing shows that feature…you guessed it…COMPETITION! Is this bad for the sport? You decide. I personally have no problem with it.

Which takes me to the category of these young guys in the sport – they are a new breed…driven by a love of the sport that borders on obsession – just check out all of the new videos (trout bums, etc…). Some of my “codger” buddies (said with the utmost of affection) don’t like these guys…they think they have attitude…hell, I wish I was their age all over again. It looks like fun to me. I think they are good for the sport and actually stand a chance of drawing more young folks into the sport (we say that is important…do we mean it?).

Which brings me to the concept of a “One Fly” competition…is this competition or something very different? One of the OFF members recently hosted a One Fly at the Bennett Springs Catch & Release Outing. I could not get my lazy butt out of bed that morning and dropped by the sign-up rather late (shame on me). I thought there might be a crowd, but unfortunately, nobody (or at least hardly anybody) showed up and the whole thing turned out to be a bust. Why? Who knows, but I heard some rumblings that it was because of the fact that the event was a competition. Competition? Gimme a break! It was a damn fundraiser. The reason I didn’t make it was because I am a slacker and I overslept. Shame on me and I hope the host can forgive me for that. Where did this whole one fly thing come from?

Which brings me to that…founded in 1986, The Jackson Hole One Fly Event is a celebration of fly fishing dedicated to the betterment of trout and trout habitat. Their Mission Statement is “To generate, manage and grant funding for projects which environmentally benefit the future of trout and fly fishing by annually sponsoring a three-day event uniting enthusiastic fly-fishers from around the world with premier regional guides who all endeavor to celebrate the joy and spirit of the sport during the fishing, social and fundraising activities of the event, and who throughout the year, promote that same joy and spirit of fly-fishing and the future of trout.” The proceeds from this event funds The Jackson Hole One Fly Capital Foundation (JHOFCF) - the non-profit organization that manages and leverages the funds raised from the One Fly Event to invest in trout stream habitat improvement projects. It seems to me to be a good thing.

Which brings me to my big point…if you ever come back to Trout Camp talking about how many fish you caught or how big they were, you have just entered into the “competition” arena. Oh, it might not be competition in the purest sense, but you really are keeping score. It really is not that big of a deal…it is all good. Be careful whom you judge and how you judge them. Stay humble…keep your mind open…just a few resolutions for a New Year. Things change…you can too…you think about that. TL