Attempting to live with the stench of guilt

Some columns are not easy to write. This, I’m sad to say, is one of them.

You see I am wracked with guilt because I held something back that might cause immeasurable damage to a relationship I hold dear. The worst part is, as much as I tried to hide it, it is probably no secret. No matter how I try, the scent still lingers on my clothes. And, frankly, it’s like the Eagles said, I can’t hide my lying eyes.

I cannot live with myself any more, for I have broken a sacred trust. That’s why I will apologize with the following letter. Dear Fly Fishing Club, Sometimes mere words cannot express the regret a fly tyer feels. Yet, I hope that you can find it in your collective hearts to forgive me for not letting you know about the road-kill skunk I discovered on the weekend.

There, I said it. Maybe now the healing can begin.

I know I should have emailed all of you so that we could have all shared in this good fortune. I also recognize that there was more than enough to go around. After all, when it comes to skunk, a little goes a long way.

So you must be wondering why I did not share my bounty with you?

The honest answer is I was weak. I kept thinking about that famous saying, “Exclusiveness is the characteristic of recent riches, high society and the skunk.” And – I won’t lie – I thought one out of three isn’t so bad.

I can only hope that while considering forgiveness, you can put yourself in my shoes – which are now on the back deck until further notice.

In my defense, imagine how you might have dealt with the temptation of being the first on the scene after a skunk had been hit? I can’t describe the emotion; suffice it to say it brought tears to my eyes.

Also, something deep inside me kept imagining the look on Jenn’s face when I walked in the door with that prime winter pelt and promises of a fashionable new hat. I wanted to show her how the other half lives.

Apparently, that is outside.

The fact that the price of skunk hair has skyrocketed to near $5 a patch also played a large part in this. But it was not for solely for profit that I kept this treasure trove to myself. No, this was also the culmination of a lifelong ambition.

You see, like most of you, I have dreamed of becoming the Skunk Hair King and also of using genuine skunk hair to recreate Art Flick’s original black-nosed dace streamer – the one he used to tie before his wife threatened divorce.

The point is I was overcome with something akin to gold fever. I think any fly tyer would understand. It was skunk hair, for goodness sake.

In closing, let me just say that I have now done the right thing – and not just because I wanted to sleep in the house again. I took the skunk back to its original resting place so that others in the Club could benefit from it too.

I can provide detailed directions, but I think if you just drive towards the dump with your car windows open they will not be necessary. Solemnly, Steve PS: If our local stores are out of tomato juice, drop by. I have a few cans left. I’ll even bring it to your car.