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Coming August 26th – SCOF 52 Ascofalypse Now

Fall 2015: From the Editor's Desk... to Your Bathroom

“A change is gonna come…”
Sam Cooke

I’m not getting too cerebral here folks, so unwad your underpants. No politics this issue — I’ll leave that for people far dumber and louder than me. The change we will be discussing today is that for once in the history of the South, we as Southern fly fisherman have the opportunity to lead the rest of the nation as a glowing example of social acceptance in something. The social acceptance I speak of has nothing to do with the color of your skin, your sexual orientation, or even your age. No, we will lead the country in something important. We will accept everyone no matter what their particular fly fishing proclivities may be (even the really weird stuff…hot butter weird).

I am putting forth the hypothesis that we, the current generation of Southern fly fishermen, are the most tolerant ever. Perhaps the greatest “regional” generation? Perhaps. I happily fly fish with folks who fish all kinds of ways. I have never fished with any Southerner under the age of 60 who has turned their nose up at a bobber. Hell, we call them bobbers. Calling a bobber a strike-indicator, is kind of like calling a shitter a bidet. I poop in both, don’t I?I also fish with people who drunkenly chum carp under the bar on weekend nights. None of these people think that this activity is beneath them, nor do they think this makes them expert carp fisherman. What they do think is, that it’s more fun than not catching carp under the bar. They’re right. We in the South led the way on rough species fishing, if you don’t count the Europeans (which I

The rest of the country looked down their collective noses while we “rednecks” pioneered fishing techniques for gar, bowfin, every bass that swims, and the elusive dolphin (the air-breathing one, not the delicious one). The only response I get from friends when I go fish something weird and not related to a trout is, what does it eat and how do I tie it. So in this crazy mixed-up world,  Southern fly fisherman will serve as a beacon of hope and tolerance. We will lead the rest of the country down the path of acceptance and congeniality. I have no idea how we of all people became the goodwill ambassadors to the rest of the fly fishing world, but fret not. The rest of you people out there who weren’t as lucky and as blessed as we were to be called Southern, take a seat. We got this.