Friday, August 10, 2012

The Honor of Sticks

    In front of me here, propped up against the bookcase above my bench, is a “production”
fly fishing rod that an uncle long ago won on a lunch counter punch-board. He gave it to me, right off the bat, this three-piece, nine-foot set of sticks. I was maybe thirteen and hugely happy to have not one but two fly rods. Just imagine, a kid like me with two fly rods.
    Sticks! Is there any stick like a fly rod! And  is there any richer rough-and-tumble Anglo Saxon single syllable word?