The statistics are plain, 100 million blogs exist on the Internet with nearly 100,000 created daily, of those 95 million are read by the author and his mom.

I figured that would dominate the gift giving this year, as I’d receive 40 copies of Strunk & White’s “Elements of Style.” Lord knows I’ve earned it, butchering the English language repeatedly, violating every rule held sacred.

I dodged the bullet, a whirlwind arrival with sugar laced goodies, followed by an orgy of rending paper, squeals of glee, and then a hasty exit.

My folks have given up trying to find something fishing related for their son, they’re just thrilled he continues to hold down a job. Ma ensures all the clothes are long sleeved or warm, knowing the kid is either wet or close to peril, and I ensure she’s right.

It was my brother that made the stretch this year, gifting me with the present every long suffering fisherman has contemplated but never had the courage to purchase. Correctly, he assumed rare moments exist where the fly box offers no encouragement, where the angler is completely stumped, and deception turns to anger…

Nothing like a German “Potato-Masher” hand grenade for the angler who has everything. It’s the first shortcoming I’ve seen on my Simm’s vest, no pocket designed for ordinance. I guess that means a new vest needed for next year, with my relatives there’s no telling what castoff NATO surplus is headed my way.

I don’t want to hear them giggles, likely you have a similar tale, involving; Japanese bubble-packed something-or-other, a saran wrapped fly rod complete with level floating line and reel, or a Penn Senator with a WF5F attached…

Next season if you hear some fellow downstream yell, “Fire in the Hole” – don’t think, hit the deck.

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