Patronizing my local fly shop has never been a issue. Guys like me always look for the rack of shopping carts when we enter – despite already owning everything.
While online shopping dominates the day to day replacements and flights of fancy, my stern rule is always drop a double sawbuck at the destination shops – the little guys – whose season lasts seven months if they’re lucky, and are a wealth of local fishing knowledge, things you forgot, and the repository of known feeding weaknesses of your quarry.
I may rethink that somewhat.
Most of us are already reluctant fliers, what with the cavity searches and grinning PSA storm troopers displaying all our underwear, illicit booze and the girlie mags we packed for the fishless hours …
… never sure whether we’ll see our rod caddy ever again.
Now we’ve taken out a ferry service, a shopping mall and most of a downtown city block just to blow up a fishing rod – it makes you wonder whether you’ll get a bill from the Gendarmes.
Saving seventy dollars in state tax seemed like a good idea when we finally dropped the cash for the high-end Sage, but now you’re three rows back in the throng of onlookers wondering whether you should claim the fragment of fore grip from the bomb squad.
Me, I’d hurry past the angry drivers in all those stalled cars, past the hundreds of mall employees bent shivering in their livery, wave good naturedly at the throng lining the rail of the good ship Commute – and the pale green spreading across ruddy cheeks as they wallow in diesel, and wait the prerequisite two weeks before angrily inquiring of the vendor what had become of my money …
“No, I never got the sumbitch … and sure I’ll take that faux leather set of dry fly drink coasters for my aggravation, that’s most sporting of you – but my address has changed, here’s the PO BOX …”
Tags: PSA storm trooper, bomb rod, girlie mags, fly fishing humor, local fly shop, online shopping
When I’m not on a computer, my preferred writing tool is a fountain pen.
Once upon a time, I could travel by air with three or four and different colors of ink for sketching. Another story.
Think tubes 6 to 7 inches long, 4 to 8 of them, and astounded look on the PSA x-ray operators face. That was just before I was duckwalked over to open the suitcase myself…Never again.
Then, there’s the items that are “lost” in transit. Just Monday night at our local fly tying group, most of us had a story about things that we loved or needed that disappeared between here and there. Money can’t replace my _______.
Thanks for the excellent read.
I am getting to the point where I am going to fedex everything prior to flying. I may even fedex myself. At least with fedex, they guarantee that you actually get there…
Bonus pont is the lack of having to try to explain anything to those TSA employees who are somehow de-evolving into drooling brainless mollusks as you attempt to, well…
I started shipping much of my gear a week or so ahead to the lodge or fly shop near where I was staying when the sh*t hit the fan. It’s costly, but worth it because I can relax before I even get on the plane as I already know my stuff is waiting safely at my destination.
Fortunately for me I am a certified by the IATA to ship HAZMAT. Although that may have expired…
So your rod gets there but none of your buddies, nice. Naturally you feel obliged to share (to the highest bidder …)
It’s actually for shipping test gear with trace elements of gasoline or diesel fuel. Never thought I’d need it to ship my 8w until reading your post.
I think it lapsed so I’ll have to sit through the 8-hour recert class… Maybe I’ll just drive.