Life in SOFLA. and its "capital" Miami (America's Casablanca or Babylon-take your pick) is even crazier as the region poises and poses for the advent of 2007. Shoppers and celebrants glut Lincoln Road and Aventura Mall: they swirl, climb, engulf and consume like locusts ruled by the Dark Force. Cold fronts attempting winter have reached the tip of our peninsula only to be engulfed in the sultry heat of a globally-warmed world.
Father Time leans over to pick up his fallen fly rod only to get butt-kicked into history by a fresh-born blonde brat wearing a Columbia diaper that sports "2007" on its stern. Joining Father on his way to the spinning hypnosis-wheel vortex are Saddam (resplendent but crooked in his hemp necktie), James Brown (with a brand-new bag), and Gerry Ford (pan lower, please... he's fallen!).
Refuge with purity exists on a more timeless and eventless basis for those obsessed with fishing: things like the immutable rises and falls of tides and changing moons, winds, as well as light and dark grab us out of the world of people and their quirks. Despite the changing faces and associations that life has dealt me, angling has given me something so powerful and unchanging, I'd even call fishing Religion!
Jan
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