Like all middle-aged couch potatoes I yearn for lost youth and admire those that seek to regain it – from a safe distance of course…

I don’t swerve towards an old guy jogging on the side of the road, don’t belittle some poor housewife trudging smartly through the neighborhood intent on weight loss, if it feels good to them I’m all for it.

Late last year, Albert Argibay, a Wappinger Falls, N.Y., bodybuilder and state correction officer, was escorted by police out of the Planet Fitness gym he was a member of, after another member complained to management of his loud grunting during weightlifting.

I’m reading the above and it occurs to me I’ve committed numerous audio faux pas while fishing.

Fishing is an individualist sport – we got some initial pointers when we started and developed unique mannerisms after years of trial and error. Me? I’m a “curse-mutterer”, I’ll alternately ridicule my remaining physical skills, and comment on the dubious lineage of my quarry. Neither is complementary, but as my tone is low, only the guy across the crick has the opportunity for offense.

Poor knots or errant casts may increase the muttering to a high pitched whine, it never occurred to me that anyone was keeping score, other than the fish:

Oh My God, check out Fatty, yes..he’s tieing on a #8 San Juan Worm…yea, I’m gonna eat that, bring it…bring that WeakSauce..

I figured they were giggling at me, now I know they are trying to get my membership revoked.

Planet Fitness, a national chain, has a solid “no-grunting” policy in place and Argibay’s noisemaking — along with a resulting verbal tussle with management — cost him his membership.

OK, so my New Year’s resolution will be to chomp harder on the greasy cigar butt rather than mumble incoherently, but all my nymphs will be on treble hooks dipped in Garlic.