I suppose one could say the same of small children, cats, mechanics and kleptomaniacs.
Like most fly fishermen, I’m devotedly attached to a handful of small, shiny otherwise obscure fly fishing gear.
Granted, after falling victim to the piles of stuff foisted on neophytes by silver-tongued fly shop masters, my assemblage of essential gear has dwindled considerably over the years. Some might suggest that winnowing to be the result of wisdom earned on the river.
On the other hand, and much more likely, striving for functional simplicity and being a cheap bastard often forges a powerful symbiosis.
Even after admitting that, after the recent and uncharitable theft of a set of clippers that had graced my vest and chestpack for a decade, the lure of a shiny new clipper bauble proved irresistible.
I like small, shiny, otherwise trivial gear.
