Magazineaholic.

I have always admitted to being somewhat of a "magazineaholic". More specifically, a fishingmagazine-ad-aholic. I know to most of you these are new terms, and you may have never heard of them, but trust me they exist. By definition, and according to the Izaak Walton-Orvis slightly abridged Dictionary; mag.ah.zeen.ah.haw.lik-- is an uncontrollable urge to constantly read and subscribe to any and all tabloids printed on 80# glossy substrates with vegetable oil based ink.

O.K. I made the vegetable oil ink up-because it could be printed with pure tar from the La Brea tarpits, and you would still be drawn to the glossy, high varnished, carefully plotted out front covers that LURE (pun- intended) us in to the waiting jaws of it's inside contents.

Anyway, from that description you can obviously figure out why I am afflicted with the fishing version of this common yet greatly ignored disease.

The disease--and have no doubt about it- it is a disease, stems from a desire to always be looking for the perfect fishing spot, gear,or technique, to enhance or better the fishing experience. Of course the old adage of "a picture is worth a thousand words" comes into play on the cover. Here we will see either a brightly smiling fisherman holding a beautiful trophy fish, or a single solitary fisherman standing in some remote pristine stream in the middle of Montana.(with the picture taken from outer space at just the right camera angle, as to not show the other six-hundred fisherman just upstream from him.)

The fishing male species urge for either of these experiences is impossible to ignore, and therefore we are drawn in. It might as well be the centerfold of some rather risque magazine or a shiny chrome bright Harley-Davidson catalog, the results are the same for those afflicted with those forms of the disease.

"That could be me." That is what our feeble male brain outputs, so we dive in.

Once inside, trained writing professionals peek our interest with more pictures and titles to articles like "Twenty Pounder River: Unmapped New Zealand River Yields Lunkers"
or-"The Top Sirloin Fly: Catch more fish and never go hungry."

Tell me we are not powerless to these kind of promises!!

My own personal weakness has always been the fishing ad. I am like putty in the hands of those dasterdly clever Madison avenue geniouses. I may really be interested in "Nymphing techniques for Bolivian Rain Forest Piranha", but my attention is quickly drawn to the ad for Angel fishing reels proclaiming: "Angels... beautiful. subtle. inspirational-"

Of course it doesn't hurt that carefully placed next to these words is a lovely young lady, clad in waders with fly rod in hand, looking.... beautiful. subtle. and inspirational!!

Damn the Piranha, I have to have that reel-- it will make me SEXY !

Yes sir, a fish slaughtering, bait stenching, sex magnet to all the chicks.

The ad goes on with it's description: "And able to throw 90 feet of fly line without breaking a sweat."-- My eyes divert back to the young lady... NOW she is borderline GODDESS level!!
I read on in hopes of finding either a personal invitation addressed to me or the phone number of the young lady printed in 20 point Helvetica type( for my aging eyes) splashed across the page.Instead I find the technical aspects of the reel and the descriptive virtues of the craftmanship that goes into every one of these reels. Of course it is too late for me to turn back, for they have sucked me in, and the only number I am calling is the order number to purchase one of their reels. "Angels... Touch One Today."

This is what they finish me off with, and my future estate sale has grown by yet one more item.

Like the dog that gets faked out by the old" fake throwing the tennis ball and hiding it behind your back trick"- I know that they are trying to trick me with the ad--but I still aimlessly run, or in this case look at the next ad in hopes of finding that tennis ball... err... next great product that will improve the fishing experience.

I would like to say I am checked into some rehab program, where they can help me focus and get ahold of my fish lusting instincts, but alas I am miserably spiraling further into the lurid, seedy, world of tri-tapered fishing lines, and frozen 1/8 second speed waterfalls--that show whispy running water and lone fishermen selecting the perfect fly for the perfect place to fish on earth!

It may take an intervention.

If only the postman can LOSE next months issue of Northwest Fly Fishing Magazine, there might be hope for me. I dunno though, I can still find happiness at magazine racks or the library.

Well, I would like to write you more of my plight, but I see in my latest issue of Fly Fisherman, that there is a new driftboat that is being made, and they claim that: "All Drift Boats are Not Created Equal."

I better check it out. After all, my old drift boat is looking pretty ragged these days...