We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Each year around this time I need to refresh my (poor) fly-fishing skills. I get out in the yard and renew some muscle memory. It's a beautiful, silent form of outdoor recreation.
This guy is a good, articulate teacher of this delightful sport which is far more challenging - more sporting and more aesthetic - than trolling, lure-casting, or Southern-style bass fishing with a big outboard engine.
As we always say here about fishing and hunting, if you really need the food to feed the kids, go to the supermarket....or put a worm on a line with a lead sinker and a barbed hook.
Fly-fishing is a good sport for gals, too, although some of my pals' clubs do not allow females on the grounds. Guys need their own places to act like kids, free of female judgement.
I came to fly fishing late in life, or at least in my fifties. I wish I had found it earlier. I have done a few satisfying things; e.g., landing aircraft on moving carrier decks. But, I cannot think of many that gave me more satisfaction than choosing a fly, casting it to a chosen point, and having a fish rise to it. Many happy days wading small streams in the Blue Ridge of Virginia, and often never seeing another soul; or floating in a kayak down the Shenandoah River. I will say that after a "purist streak", I began to adapt the fishing style to the conditions. But, I will always be grateful that I found the challenge, and bliss, of fishing with a fly rod in my hand.