Fly anglers, let’s talk on-stream eyewear.

I am nearsighted. I am too lazy for contacts, and too chickenshit to get Lasik (as designated driver for my nearsighted wife, I watched Ms. Chili get Lasiked on CCTV at the optometrist – scared straight, kids). My night vision is actually quite good, and I can make the love without my glasses on (but the lights stay off, and I cry), but I am committed to a pursuit that requires excellent vision and depth perception, polarized lenses for seeing through the water, and protection from sunlight, and the prescription required by my weak-ass, cold-got-a-late-pass-from-natural-selection eyes precludes the wraparound shape of prescription sunglasses that the cool kids sport. I’ve tried plain old prescription sunglasses that didn’t wrap around, but the glare from the sides on a bright day made me so sad. Smith Optics be all Boston Butt smoked over post oak splits, Lenscrafters be all canned ham in the cafeteria.

Thank Texas Instruments purists, the Kim dynasty of the DPROK, and senior citizens everywhere for Fitovers.

just like me, but with hair (courtesy of

They are the cat’s pajamas, as most of their customers say when they mean to describe something keen. Hell, I own three pairs. I started with the Aviator (above, which should really, really be called the Terminator X).

to the edge of panic

Then to Glides in Polarvue™ Gray. Besides riding fast in jet boats (or, you know, on 10 speeds … or more likely scrambling through pincherries and knee deep mud) these are ideal for the angler who wishes to look “street” upon breaking down and leaving the river. Highly recommended for the urban fisher … Professor Cheeseburger will surely be seen in these when his magnificent eyesight deteriorates.

pictured: street (courtesy of

Finally, the Razor. Besides the critical functions of spotting trout and reducing glare, these allow you to peer through the basementlike miasma and pick up smokin’ babes in small town riverside bars and/or bar & grills in the Driftless and take them back to your riverside small town Driftless hotel room on your 10 speed and make the love.

critical fly-fishing appropriate soul patch, does not cry (courtesy of

I mean, I assume they do, and you could if they did, taking for granted the presence of an activated smokin’ babe population. At least they seem to cause quite a sensation with the young ladies of the MacGrove when MZA is walking the dog of an afternoon. Understandable. Forgivable. Les jeunes filles cannot resist an experienced man in an old  t-shirt with a picture of a fish on it wearing slide-over nonprescription eyewear and carrying a big bag of shit.

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