Never-Happy Rant.

And I thought I was egotistical when it came to fly fishing.

Dealing with fly fishermen everyday and witnessing first hand the incestuousness, the cliquishness, the clubhouse mentality--it has quickly made me grow weary of the one activity that I hold dearly to my heart.

When I say that I'm egotistical, it's more or less in a tongue-&-cheek manner. I've been fly fishing for thirty years, so I think I'm pretty good. That's where my back-patting starts and ends--with a shit-eating smerk, of course. Don't worry, I self deprecate enough to balance out both humors.

I don't loiter fly shops on a weekly basis. I don't keep up with the latest fish catching trends, methods, or gadgets. I don't read every magazine article, attend every clinic and trade show, or mimic anglers whom I deem better than myself simply because they're employed by the industry. No, I just kind of know how to fish. I adapt to conditions, understand what fish usually eat, and apply thirty years of trial and error. See? I'm somewhat egotistical.

To be accepted into one of these fly fishing cliques (or the fly fishing clique), you have to continually rub elbows with people in the know. That is, people whom other people think are fly fishing geniuses. People that can definitely talk the talk. They live, eat, and breathe fly fishing. At least fly fishing jargon. I call it shop knowledge. And I've never felt the need to frequent a fly shop for the sake of talking shop. I don't get satisfaction from spec-dropping. I don't need to feel that the more I talk the more I'm going to be accepted into the realm of fly fishing elbow-rubbers. It's like a Chamber Of Commerce meeting. All you're doing is trying to one-up the other guy with your random shop knowledge and name dropping.

I've never been subjected to ugly side of shop culture--until I started managing a fly shop a few months ago. Now, it's unavoidable. Fly fishing is not that exciting anymore. It feels like work--it is work. When I go to the river, I feel like I'm on the clock. I've lost track of why I go.

This is the first time I've incorporated passion and employment. It's a sour mix--at least for a passion that is based on solitude, art, and spirituality. My passion is quickly becoming a means for fueling shop jargon, reports, and anything else that helps the shop make a dime. Which is fine--that's how it works. I made my choice.

I honestly do like the industry, but not at the expense of diminishing my true likes. Work is work. Fun is fun. Ain't much mixing the two. At least in my experience.


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