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.
Last year in early April I flew into Hartford, CT to visit my hometown. When I got out of the plane, the dry, cloudy and relatively mild weather reminded me days that I associated with the start of fishing season. I mentioned the start of fishing season to the rental car clerk. She replied that fishing season had not started.
When I got to my hometown I asked about fishing season. Friends informed me that fishing season had definitely started.
That shows the difference between rural and suburban. The rental car clerk in suburbia didn't know about fishing season because suburban people don't fish that much. In my rural hometown, fishing season was a big event, with many of my peers hitting the streams or ponds. I didn't fish, but many peers did.
The opening day for trout season for me is the first day I can wade across a stream safely without getting swept away....
It happened once when I was wading in 12'' high, fast water that picked me up and tried to take me to the Pacific Ocean. My big straping fishing clients got out and ran downstream to intercept me even as I grabbed some willow branches and pulled myself into an eddy and out of the currents. The men hoisted me out and onto the bank.
Other than that, it was an opening day for the big guys but not yet for me....