Ben and I recently spent a day floating the river in hopes of finding a snout or two looking skyward. We weren't disappointed, but we were a little rusty. Of a half dozen opportunities, we converted on two. Such is fishing, and as you almost certainly know - the fish we miss are the ones that keep us coming back.
The two fish we brought to hand were not, however, the most notable part of the trip. Somewhere along those first few river miles, in between the boat launch and the first trout willing to take a swipe at my hendrickson, I had a thought - not a wholly unusual experience in and of itself, but strange given its context.
I wanted to hook a trout. I wanted the thrill of out-sized noses, tight to the bank or in a foamy seam, to materialize from the ether and swallow our poorly tied bugs. I wanted long casts and tight lines. I wanted some affirmation that after a combined four decades of near continual practice, Ben and I were competent bug chuckers, able to get the job done.
With as much in mind, we loaded the cars with one cooler, two boats, four oars, five rods, twelve beers, somewhere in the vicinity of 1500 flies (we fished five or six all day), and at least 6000 calories worth of roast beef and egg salad sandwiches. We actually took the time to wash thermal underwear and patch our leaking waders. We drove one hour to the take-out and another 15 minutes to the launch. We left business unattended and cashed in collateral with our wives. All that, and somewhere after we launched but before that first fish, I was struck by the notion that it wasn't the fish we were really after.
Read any book that touches on fly fishing, at least any older book that touches on fly fishing (which means no Kindle editions are likely available), and you're sure to see a similar thread woven into the fabric of the text. Fly fishing is so much more than hooking, playing, and landing a trout. As corny and hackneyed as it may sound, fly fishing is about the experience of a day spent riverside.
I remember once attending a lecture and slide show - on nymphing techniques, I think - given by Joe Humphreys. I was eager to hear what so talented and recognized an angler might have to say, but truth be told, so many years have passed between then and now that I remember nothing the noted bug chucker had to say about fishing a nymph. There is, however, one nugget that for whatever reason left an indelible impression. Humphreys implored his audience to "look up."
At the time, I either had no idea what Humphreys was talking about or I dismissed it as so much romantic nonsense, but nearly twenty years after the fact I am struck by his words. "Look up," he said. Look away from the water, and look to the trees. Look to the sky, to the birds, to the sunset or the sunrise. Look to the world around you, all those things that have become cliche in the sport's literature, and above all else - look to your friends and fishing partners. Take it in. Take it all in.
We were floating a beautiful piece of water on a genuinely beautiful spring day. If only for a moment, we were free of the stress and worry life often heaps on us in abundance. We were concerned, or rather unconcerned, with something that in the grand scheme is nothing but a trifle: finding a rising trout and coaxing it into taking one of our flies.
I don't know why, maybe it's a consequence of having caught my share of fish or the result of growing older and realizing I've more years behind me than are likely ahead, but somewhere after the boat launch and well before I hooked that first trout, I looked up from the water and realized my being there was enough. Sharing a river with my friend was enough. Sharing hope was enough.
Several years ago, I wrote what follows after a day spent drinking beer and reminiscing with friends about our time working together in a fly shop. I enjoyed my time there, but marriage, fatherhood, and career took me in another direction. I do sometimes miss the job, but most days I walk into a shop, and I am happy to be on the outside looking in. The truth is that working in a fly shop isn't glorious work. It's a retail job that in many ways is like any other. Conversation - about all things fishing - is the work's one redeeming quality, but I digress ...
I consider the reprinting of this a shop-veteran's service to those bug-grunts still operating in the field. I'm thinking it buys me first crack at that fish by the rock, but I know better than to hold my breath.
On Working in a Fly Shop: Redux
Those of you who know me know that for about eight years I worked regularly in a fly shop,
and that I still make appearances there from time to time. My time at
the shop taught me some valuable lessons, which have helped me make the
most of my time in other fly shops around the country. I thought I'd take this opportunity to share these nuggets with you.
1. The average flyshop
employee does not care how you broke your rod. Your story is of little
or no consequence, and will have no bearing on the employee's decision
to help with your warranty issues. You need not regale the person behind
the counter with ridiculous tales of Sasquatch, rabid muskellunge, or piscatorially-deprived sex offenders who demanded your rod tip or your arse.
Both you and the guy behind the counter know you broke your two-weight when you tried double-hauling four split-shot and a #2 Clouser.
The ginormous rig collided with the blank at roughly 65 miles an hour,
and the end result was splintered graphite in your hand. The rod shaft
tells the tale.
Note my diction. The rod did
not break. You broke the rod. It was your fault. It was not a defect in
materials or workmanship, and guess what, the shop attendant is always
happy to help. Just don't waste his or her time with a lame story. The
conversation should go something like this. "Hi Mike. I broke my rod.
Can you help? Great! When we're finished, can I get a quick double-haul
lesson?" Be brief and to the point. There is no reason for subterfuge or narration. Again ... brief and to the point.
2.
Warranties on rods do not equate to trade-in/upgrade privileges in
perpetuity. Here's the scenario. You buy a top end rod. You fish that
rod for two seasons. Two years later, company X replaces in its
catalogue your top end rod with another top end rod. You then
deliberately break your formerly top end rod, and return the graphite
shards to company X fully expecting an "upgrade" to the latest and
greatest fish slayer. If you've done this then you're no better than a
steaming pile of bovine excrement. If you've done this more than once
then your parents are no better than a whole field of steaming bovine
excrement. Either way, I hate you. I hate your parents, and may God have
mercy on your selfish, unethical souls.
3. If
you ask a shop employee where to fish then you should expect one of
several types of response. The particular response you receive depends
almost entirely on your relationship with the employee, your skill as an
angler, any prior military service (vets go to the front of the line),
and/or the stature of your breasts (some boobs make liars out of us while others are like truth serum). All things considered, expect one of
the following:
Lies.
Almost always, shop employees are anglers before they're shop
employees. Many have other, more lucrative jobs. They "work" in a fly
shop so that they can talk fishing all day, and then fish after work.
They will not turn you onto water they plan to fish themselves, and they
almost always reserve the best water for themselves. It's human nature.
Get over it, buy a map, and hope for the best.
Vague Generalities.
Don't expect the employee to draw you a map, point to the rock on the
key, and suggest you'll find a twenty-two inch brown behind that rock.
If you're naive enough to ask where to fish, expect to hear answers like
"The river," "Downstream of the bridge," "The trophy section," or "In
your own state." In neither this universe nor any other does the
purchase of four flies buy you access to the inner sanctum. Just go
away, and choke yourself.
Truth.
Some shop guys are just genuinely good people. In fact, most shop guys
are just genuinely good people. They cannot bring themselves to lie for
the sake of maintaining ridiculous, meaningless secrets. They will tell
you exactly where to fish, when to fish, and what flies to use. They'll
be so generous that you will invariably doubt the voracity of their
information. You'll leave the shop feeling abused and belittled. That
feeling will gnaw away at you while you go fishless in a section of the river the employee suggested you avoid.
4.
All waders leak. The name on the label does not matter. The technology does not matter. The price does not matter. All waders
leak. A few extra dollars might buy you some time, but this is not
guaranteed. All waders leak. Patagonia, Orvis, Redington, Cloudveil, Simms, Redball, etal. All waders leak. Are you getting it? All freakin' waders will eventually freakin' leak!
5.
Price does not necessarily equate to performance. If you want to cast
farther or more precisely, take a lesson and practice. Don't make the
shop guy explain why one rod is better than another. He'll have
perfectly legitimate reasons, but in the end you need to cast the thing
to know if a rod suits you. Avoid wasting everyone's time, and just get
to it.
6. Everyone working in a fly shop would rather be fishing. Bear this in mind when mentioning just how good was the morning hatch.
7. And finally ... never antagonize a bug chucker who is armed with a spear.
I have to admit to being something of an Orvis guy. Most days I look like I stepped right out of the catalog. Granted, I once worked for Orvis in Vermont so it could be I've an excuse - not that I necessarily need one. I've still many friends who are employees of the company, some of whom are featured in the video I've attached to this string. Whatever your feelings about Orvis may be - and I realize that the company suffers no shortage of detractors - I have to say that some of the people who work there are among the finest folks I know. They're dedicated to producing a quality product that any bug chucker would be proud to own.
And if you are one of those nay-sayers then I've something of a challenge for you. Fish one of the new Orvis sticks - an H2, Access, or perhaps even the new Clearwater - just for a day. I'll even let you borrow one of mine. I can almost certainly guarantee that you'll be pleasantly surprised - even if you can't bring yourself to admit it.
And in reading this, please keep in mind that I haven't a history of propping up any company. In five years of maintaining this blog I've never done a product review. I don't receive compensation for any of my efforts (regardless of how much I might like to be compensated) - not from Orvis or from the representatives of any other company. If I give my opinion then you can be sure it is my honest opinion.
Not sure why I've taken 21 days to post this, but if you're looking for tying material this is about as good a sale as you're likely to find. Orvis is offering twenty percent off all tying materials and tools - excluding those from Renzetti and Whiting - for the entire month of February. Bobbins, hooks, feathers and fur ... you'll buy it eventually ... may as well save yourself some scratch. Now might even be a good time to get that Regal or HMH vise you've been lusting after. The link below will take you directly to the tying section of Orvis' online store. I receive no compensation from the company (unfortunately); I just thought some of you might like to save a few dollars. The hooks - most of which are rebranded Daiichi or Gamakatsu - are an especially good deal.
It's that time of year. Fall and winter fishing is right around the corner, and my thoughts have officially turned from brown to silver as carp give way to steelhead. As has been the case since YouTube first came online, I've begun my annual ritual of surfing favorite chromed-out videos. Below are a few that are either courtesy of yours truly or friends and acquaintances. Please note that they're all videos shot on the Great Lakes. Most of the stuff coming out of the left coast looks far too professionally done to be featured here. Fishing the big lakes is about grit ... west coast vids are pretty ... not gritty.
First up is my attempt at putting together a montage from last season. It doesn't really rate when compared to the other videos on this list, but it has a great soundtrack. Rockabilly and fly fishing go hand in hand.
Next is a video brought to us by the boys who maintain The Angler's Net blog and the annual Spey Nation event. I'm looking forward to the new stuff ...
Some eye candy from the guys at Orvis, including my partner in petty crime, Shawn Brillon. Shawn is bearded, beautiful, and routinely loses far more fish than he catches - or so the video would have us believe.
This next one was the first I made of the boys and I on the Salmon River, and it stands as a testament to the average steelheader's idiocy.
Amongst the many fishing blogs that I frequent is the OrvisNews.com. For those of you who haven't visited the big O's weblog, I really have to recommend that you give it a look. It is very nicely done - polished and professional - and intrepid bug chuckers might be surprised at the abundance of material that isn't directly related to the company's products. I digress ...
While perusing a string of recent entries on the big O's site, one in particular caught my eye. The entry is a video promoting a new line of waders that will be available in the fall. The waders look promising, and I'm sure I'll end up with a pair, but that isn't what caught my eye. What did get my attention were segments of the video that feature Tim Daughton (one of Orvis' many product developers) and Christine Penn (a merchandise coordinator with the company). Those of you that have followed my blog for a time may remember Tim from posts entitled, Boys Day Out and Dyslexic Steelheading. Again, I digress ...
The video segments that feature Tim and Christine were shot - quite clearly for someone who knows what to look for - right in my backyard. It would seem that my carp water is also Orvis' carp water. A brief correspondence with Tim confirmed my suspicions. For the sake of context, Daughton is the narrator of the video, and while it's clearly a marketing piece, I think you'll enjoy some of the footage as I did. Certainly, it's worth a couple minutes of your time.
This past Wednesday, I was fortunate to help manage a fly tying class, which was given for disabled veterans at the local VA hospital. The class came together nicely - my hat is off to Robin Hill of The Angler's Net for making arrangements and getting us all to come together. Thanks go out to Shawn Brillon of the Orvis company and Doug (last name forgotten ... very sorry Doug) of Goldstock's Sporting Goods, both of whom lent their knowledge and skills as instructors to our class. Everyone at the hospital was enthusiastic and accommodating, and the veterans with whom we worked were - for lack of better words - just a great bunch of people.
I have to admit that I was - at least at first - intimidated by one of the veterans who attended the class. Don't misunderstand ... he was affable, funny ... just a great guy to be around. I'll buy him a beer if ever the opportunity presents itself. But he was also an amputee. His left arm had been removed just below the shoulder, and I have to admit - with some shame - that I was at first terrified of working with him because I had no idea how he was going to accomplish the most basic movements required of a fly tyer. Perhaps more to the point, I had no idea how we were going to teach him.
I should not have been concerned; he may have been an amputee, but he was also a soldier. He adapted to the nuances of tying as I am sure he has had to adapt in most every other aspect of his life. His Woolly Bugger was tied at least as well as any other in the class, and I learned a very valuable lesson as a result. I'll never again underestimate the strength of will and of character that most people possess.
What I should have done - from the very beginning of the class - was remember an interview I conducted some 18 months ago, with another wounded veteran. Staff Sergeant Josh Williams is a good man - a soldier, a husband, a father - and his story is an inspiration. What follows is the piece I wrote all those months ago, including my interview with Sergeant Williams and some video of Josh in action.
Project Healing Waters: Josh Williams
As I've mentioned several times in the nearly two years that I've maintained this blog, I count Shawn Brillon as one of my closest friends and fishing partners. Shawn is one of the fly fishing product developers for the Orvis company; he is generally responsible for the flies and fly tying material we see in the catalog every year.
Recently, Shawn and I were discussing such mundane things as line choice for certain two-handed rods, and the crop of new flies Orvis is likely to offer this year. At the end of that discussion, Shawn spoke of a gentleman from Virginia whose acquaintance he was happy to have made.
I was intrigued by Josh Williams' story not only because he's both a fly flinger and a tyer, but also because he was a soldier. Staff Sergeant Williams carried his country's banner into combat, and like so many of our nation's warriors, he served with distinction. This is not, however, what what makes Sergeant Williams unique.
What makes Josh unique is his tenacity (think of how frustrating it might be to tie goose biots onto a nymph with only one hand). This stubborn refusal to allow life to pass him by was made manifest after he and I exchanged a few emails, and Josh very graciously agreed to be interviewed for The Rusty Spinner.
TRS: Josh, for how long were you in the Army? With what unit did you serve, and in what capacity? To where were you deployed, and for how long?
Williams: Joined the Army right out of high school (Roanoke, VA) on 31 July 2002 as an infantryman. After basic, I was put on orders to 2-7 CAV, 1CD at Fort Hood, TX. I was the automatic rifleman in my squad, so I carried the SAW (M249) and the 240B. In February of 2004, my unit was deployed to Iraq. We fought in Al Najaf, Baghdad, Sadir City, Fallujah, and Taji. Came back in March of 2005. Became a squad leader and eventually a Staff Sergeant on my 4 year service mark. I had full intentions of becoming a career soldier. God had other plans for me…
TRS: Let's address the 800 pound gorilla in the room ... How did you lose your arm, and how has that injury affected your life?
Williams: I was riding my motorcycle to guard duty on 6 April 2006, when a kid in a car ran a stop sign. I had no time to stop. I went through his window, and out the windshield. I then super-manned 171 feet in the air before finally falling. I was air lifted to a local hospital. My injuries included a severed right arm a couple inches above the elbow, a broken ankle with a nasty scar, a huge gash in my right thigh that got a skin graph, a shattered right femur that now has a titanium rod throughout, 3 broken bones in my back, and random road rash scars. Naturally, God graced me with being the only person in my family that is left handed. So that’s awesome! But I still needed to learn how to do every single thing I’d ever learned all over again. To say the least, depression set in quickly.
TRS: How did you come to fly fishing?
Williams: I was flown to Walter Reed Medical Hospital about a month after the wreck. These guys, John Bass and Ed Nicholson, came in to the hospital one day and introduced themselves to me. They were part of a non-profit called Project Healing Waters. Ed had started this to give a way for disabled vets, mentally and physically, a way of healing and therapy unlike anything else. I wanted no part of it. I was always a huge hunter and fisherman. But fly fishing looked impossible with two arms so why would I try with one? I certainly wasn’t gonna embarrass myself trying this with one arm! But after some persistence, thanks to John Bass (a paraplegic fly fisherman mind you), I gave in. I adapted fast and quickly became obsessed with the sport. Through the obstacles accomplished with fly fishing, I was able to tackle others like tying my own shoes and shooting one-armed.
TRS: When did you start fly tying?
Williams: I was retired from the Army and left Walter Reed in February of 2007. Shortly after, PHW was taking off like a wildfire. They decided to start one where I lived in Roanoke, VA. I was partnered with some guys to start it off, and it caught on pretty quickly. One evening, we had our first tying class with the vets at the Salem VAMC we volunteered at. I decided to try so I couldn’t give the vets there an excuse not to. And when it was all said and done, I tied the ugliest most pathetic woolly bugger ever tied! But I TIED IT!!! I took one of our kits home and it was all over. I was hooked.
TRS: How much time do you spend per day / per week at the vise or on the river?
Williams: I am married to my best friend, Lisa Williams. She is the best therapy I have. She knows firsthand how therapeutic fishing/tying is to me and has never batted an eye any time I’ve ever done either. I even got the chance to spend 8 days in Canada and she was totally supportive! I am also a student at Old Dominion University via satellite classes, while working full time at an architectural/engineering firm in Roanoke called Aecom. I stay busy! However, I still manage to fish almost every weekend. During Spring and Summer, I will even fish after work for a couple hours once or twice a week. I tie at least an hour almost every single evening. It is that enjoyable to me. All this fishing is definitely going to be reduced though, in the near future. Lisa and I are expecting our first child, 28 May. We find out the sex in two days and I’m as anxious as I’ve ever been! I have a feeling I’ll be taking our child out fishing before he/she can walk though ha ha.
TRS: Can you give examples of what you do differently from those anglers and tyers who have use of both hands?
Williams: When I fish, I have to tie all my knots with one hand. I don’t ever use a prosthetic. I strip the line out with my teeth. I also bring the line in with my teeth as well. I am definitely a fan of roll casting. I try to manipulate all the line I have out, so I don’t have to keep stripping in and out with my teeth. Tying is actually much more challenging to me. I can’t spin hair as easily as one with two hands. I have to kind of separate my hand into two hands when tying one parts. A few fingers are wrapping the thread, while a couple others are attempting to hold the material in place. I taught myself to whip finish by using my index finger to twirl the line around because a whip finisher scares me to death to try to use!
TRS: When did you learn that Orvis was going to offer your fly in the company's catalog, and what was your reaction?
Williams: A friend that works for Orvis, Leigh Oliva, told me I should submit my pattern “Josh’s White Lightning” to Orvis after seeing me catch a bunch of trout with it at a PHW tournament. I said what the heck. At that time, I had just started an online business of tying patterns from home. I figured what better way to improve my patterns than tying for others. You see, I didn’t want to send someone a sloppy fly, so I strived to improve the quality of my flies. It has definitely worked. I found out last fall from Shawn Brillon, the guy that makes or breaks the deal of fly submissions, that my pattern had passed the board and would be in the 2011 catalogue. What a feeling of accomplishment!!! I still can’t believe it, so periodically throughout the day I go to the website to see my pattern ha ha.
TRS: Have you any other "secret" flies in your arsenal that might someday be offered for sale?
Williams: I have a stonefly pattern that I’m trying to perfect because I just love using them and they’re so abundant in the healthy streams I fish. I also have a dry fly version of my purple white lightning that works great on wild brookies, but looks weak. I just don’t like how it looks. I’ll eventually find the right combination of materials. There’s another killer nymph I tie, but for the life of me I can’t remember anything about it ……….. Oh well …….
TRS: Finally, have you any advice or words of wisdom that you might offer not only to other fly anglers, but also to men and women who - like yourself - find themselves face to face with seemingly overwhelming injuries and obstacles?
Williams: As far as advice, I believe that we must teach our youth the things that are so important to us. We can’t expect them to pick up on fly fishing if we don’t take them out. It may be frustrating, but just remember that you too were that bad at first! If you’re a disabled soldier or civilian, don’t be so discouraged to not even try. That’s not the way to live. Be stubborn. It’s because of our Lord giving me a whole bunch of it that I’m able to get out there without embarrassing myself too much! And remember, there is always always always someone out there who’s got it worst than you! You can do it, you just have to learn how to do it your own special way.
I don't know that there's much TRS might add to anything Josh had to say. I would just like to take the opportunity to thank Sergeant Williams for taking the time to talk fishing with us. I'd also like to congratulate he and his wife on the upcoming birth of their first child. I hope that in between diaper changes and teething rings, fate gives Josh and I the opportunity to wet a line together. He has an open invitation to the river.
Be warned that I write this as I approach the tale end of my second, two-pint bottle of Three Philosophers, one of the Ommegang brewery's fine craft-brewed ales. Tasty stuff ... much to my wife's chagrin.
What is it about a fly shop? Seriously, what is it? We walk through the front door like young Charlie Bucket stepping into Willy Wonka's chocolate factory for the first time, all wide-eyed enthusiasm and wonder. We're easy marks. Easily mystified. Easily impressed. Easily sold.
Looking at that list - through my rose colored beer goggles - I think I begin to better understand the marketing arm of the fly fishing industry. Clearly, tackle manufacturers and resellers have boiled down their customer base into several key demographics. Let's take a look at those constituencies.
The Disciples of Pythagoras: The Disciples try to bring order to fly fishing in the same way they try to order every aspect of their lives, through mathematics. For them, life's inconsistencies can always be reduced to their binary elements or a least common denominator. Every mystery may be solved, every challenge overcome, with a properly constructed algorithm. A brown trout rising sporadically to hendrickson spinners, permit tailing on a flat, a school of outsized carp cruising the shallows in a search of crayfish - these are all problems that may be solved with a little a2 + b2 = c2. Consequently, the Disciples gravitate toward gear that can easily be accounted for in an equation. Sage rods and reels are especially apropos: 99, One, 1200, 1600, 1800, 4800, ... 8675309. The numbers make sense.
I think this thing is at the heart of my Android phone.
Card Carrying Members of the Craig Sheffer Fan Club: What do you mean you don't know Craig Sheffer? Yes, you do. No ... really ... you do. Craig Sheffer is the actor that played Norman Maclean, the narrator and protagonist of the film adaptation of A River Runs Through It. But all you remember is Brad Pitt's performance? Hmmmmmm ... does your wife know you've been visiting Turkish bath houses?
That Brad Pitt sure is a beautiful man
The point - insofar as this semi-drunken rant has a point - is that Sheffer-ites are escapists. They fly fish to "get away from it all," and many were sold on the sport's more romantic notions by The Movie. Consequently, Sheffer-ites gravitate toward gear that is marketed to folks with aesthetics and tradition in mind. Part of the irony, of course, is that most of this gear is made in mainland China where fly fishing is about as much a part of the landscape as is a Taco Bell drive-thru.
Irony aside, names like Battenkill, Classic, StreamDance, Drifter, Canyon, Clearwater, and Bighorn leave a Sheffer-ite dreaming wistfully of a time when anglers carried bamboo rods and wore felt hats with flies stuck in the brims. Through the magic of product branding, Sheffer-ites are removed from the cubicles and corporate headquarters in which they tend to congregate, and magically transported to Rocky Mountain freestoners with water pure enough to drink in the raw. Note that the Coors Brewing Company - a company whose products are never commingled with the words "tradition" or "aesthetic" - uses exactly the same marketing strategy to appeal to binge drinking frat boys whose fathers never took them camping.
Nuff' said.
Trekkies (sometimes referred to as Hobbits depending on the angler's proclivities):
Helios, Hard Alox, Vexsis, Hydros, Shadow, Mirage ... these are the names that writers of fiction give to ancient gods and distant star systems (and fly fishing marketers - or is it marketeers) give to their companies' latest and greatest gizmos. I can almost imagine a Las Vegas convention center filled to overflowing with pointy eared, wader wearing Spocks ... a Fly Fishing Show in which tyer's row is populated by the likes of Gandalf, Scotty, Bilbo, and Sulu - all of whom tie zonkers with trible fur and muddlers with flash from a barrow-wight.
Oh My.
Rapidly Aging Forty Year Old Men - Who Secretly Wish They Had Been Recruited for NASA, the CIA, FBI, or NSA:
Acronyms are everything. Everything.
That is why these men (and they're always men) often spend so much time and money pursuing university degrees. R.A.F.Y.O.M.s (Rapidly Aging Forty Year Old Men) need to feel accomplished.
I'm a very important person. Can't you tell by my robes and mortarboard?
They need to feel successful, and they need to feel that way because they are terrified of their own deaths ... or their daddies never hugged them ... or Santa Claus overlooked them ... or they've always felt sexually inadequate, or ... whatever. The bottom line is that they're afraid they'll leave this world having left no trace. In their perpetually pubescent minds they feel safe in the assumption that titles mean something, and the letters that follow their names on professional correspondence (FBI, MD, Phd, CIA, MSW, CPA et al) give them the sense of having accomplished something important, being noticed, or having huge ...
Fly rods.
GLX, MTx, ZXL, CLA, TCR, BIIIx, VXP, HDT, TCX, TiCr, BVK, or WLx ... the acronyms are everything. When an R.A.F.Y.O.M. has an acronym in his hand, he is more of a man in his mind.
