I have inside information. I can't tell you, because that would be cheating and potentially damaging to the parties involved, so I will leave it at that and just sit here feeling that little smugness that develops when you know things.
There are particulars that I can talk about, though. One is how Mr. Dunn has hung up his thirdcoastfly hat, in pursuit of other hats just as delicious, which may or may not have to do with that other thing I am not at liberty to talk about, but definitely has nothing to do with the appending storm of awesomeness that will be the Dunn-Smythe-Landeen Category 5 epicness about to befall the Great Lakes State.
I am excited to show how much suck can be snap-t'ed from a two-hander.
I am excited to drink beer and be educated.
I am excited to be poetried at.
I am excited to wreck someone else's kitchen in the pursuit of culinary perfection.
I am excited to cook bacon.
I am excited to eat bacon.
I am excited to feel how cold the water is that leaks through the hole in my waders.
I am excited to buy new waders.
I am excited to see the Pere Marquette, the jewel of western Michican.
I am excited to meet interesting and stimulating people of the midwest culture and fish with them.
I am excited to be the first kid on my block with a confirmed eat.
I don't even know what I should be doing right now. I could tie a silly fly. I could drink another drink. I could walk back into the kitchen and realize that there is nothing in the fridge that can dampen the hunger in my gut. The rumble. The tremor that develops in the days before history is made. The quake that opens your eyes before the sun and whispers sweet nothings about friends and fish and boats and waters and beers that punch you in the balls and writhe and flail and scream and pray for more.
It should be a week. It should be a month, or tomorrow. It should be closer than it is but time has a funny way of always moving at the same speed even if it feels like forever and an instant.
It's just one more experience to be placed in the jar on the dusty shelf of life. Just one more happening that matters only to a select few, as important as the creation of the universe, as impotent as a good story never told.
As least you wont have to worry about that. I might even take a pic or two while there.
-Alex who is very excite, yes?