I can’t seem to get anything written lately. But not really because of a lack of ideas. My mind is just a bit scattered with all that’s going on. The holidays, life, stuff. A day of solo fly fishing would help, I’m sure, but that ain’t happening anytime soon.

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I gotta follow my own advice: For the last few years [name redacted] has made it a point of ending any email or conversation that includes the mention of someone’s passing with the comment (paraphrasing here), “We’re getting older, you know, and fewer and fewer of our friends are still alive.”

My advice (more paraphrasing): “Appreciate the fact that you can still make that comment.”

Considering this wisdom, I’m now convinced that I need to avoid making any more friends and truly appreciate and make the best of what life has to offer. For the last 30 years I’ve always thought my future was much further ahead. I still do. But I’d like to think that my wife and I have learned a lesson or two over the years…doing now what we can rather than shelve that cruise, fishing trip or nicety of life until retirement.

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Seems I’ll always be in that awkward stage. Though I’m better than I was when younger, I still accidentally break things now and again. I dress better too, but other than the typical aloha shirt and shorts, I don’t have an easily identifiable “style.”

I thank God there are no full-length mirrors on the water. The few pictures of me in full fly fishing regalia confirm that I look less like the well-put together guy in the Orvis catalog — you know the one, with the sexy loops in his back cast, making even a plaid shirt look good — and more like a walking sausage. I can’t help but wonder if even the fish I land are a bit embarrassed for me.

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A week ago my wife told me she was getting her legs “sugared.” My imagination had just started to run away. Then she explained it…what a buzzkill…