Those of us in the lower 48 have to settle for this season we call spring. It’s awful, burning hot days in the mid-sixties freezing cold nights around fifty. It drives us out in quest of the monster three pound guppies that rule their aquatic roosts with the same tiny fish brain that they share with their Alaskan cousins the Halibut. These fishbowl flounders actually put up a decent fight. This being owed in large part to the use of ultra light tackle instead of a shotgun and a gaff hook.  

In short, after reading your article, I learned little more then fish are bigger in Alaska, your therapy has not really helped, you have a tendency to vomit regardless of how old you get, and you feel a strange need to remind people of the obvious.  Your neighbors know the fish are big there! They can see with their own eyes how the therapy sessions are going. Besides, it’s a small town and, let’s face it, people talk.  I will however want to hear more about the winner of the now infamous Homer’s Jackpot Halibut Derby. Fish on!  

Sent from my iPad