So the other day a friend asked me how often I purchased online. Being at the upper end of the 18-49 demo, I thought it a probing question into my late-Boomer level of web savvy. I just so happened that I’d purchased – just day earlier — a handful of flies for an up-coming trip to Kentucky’s Cumberland River (don’t tell anyone but IMHO it’s the sweetest little trout stream east of the Mississippi). Less than ten minutes on Orvis.com, I found myself a nice assortment of Woolly Buggers – they KILL in the swift water that’s rare on the Cumberland right now – and some Bead Head Nymphs for backup. I even had time to pick up a new fly line and shop the Outlet and Sale Tent. (I’d have closet full of Orvis apparel if I didn’t have two wonderful daughters in private schools, but that’s another blog).
So my line and my flies will be here later this week, and I’ll be as prepared as I can be to stalk the wily Brown Trout. Now I’m feeling guilty that I patronized a business hundreds of miles away, when there’s a new fly-fishing shop just a 10-minute drive from my home or office. It’s the same feeling I get in my gut when I walk into the bookstore up the street to buy a Sunday New York Times, but order my books from Amazon. It’s a local/global balance I’m often looking to strike. Well, I’ll get over to the new fly shop before the spring is out. Maybe I’ll even pitch that entrepreneurial fly fisherman on an ecommerce site for his shop.
Imagine how many Woolly Buggers I could get on trade
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