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Jackson: Does your fishing personality mirror the weather?

I expected to be totally unencumbered.

I thought I had exorcised all those addictive demons this week. I even cleaned up that small, but easily maintained fly tying area. I vacuumed the floor, careful to make sure all the various materials were sucked up by the long nozzle. That was an easy mission.

My social calendar (created and produced by my extremely supportive wife) looked like the appointment book on some executive's desk. It was crammed with dates and destinations matched to people I didn't know we (as a couple) had a connection.

I had a life again, created out of the darkness of a sole existence in the corner of our spacious basement where I had labored for hours on end creating fly patterns that had oozed out of my psyche.

Everything seemed to be all right. My wife had taken a strong inhale of relief and commented I no longer appeared pale. She added my former languid lifestyle in the basement had been replaced with a sense of cheerfulness. But in reality, between you and I, it was all act to placate my wife by honoring my redolent commitment to a more-healthier, aboveground (basement) lifestyle.

This installment of "Fly Tying Madness" comes at a time when Chicago-area anglers are hungering for action on lakes and streams.

Of course, being northern Illinois and having some extended daylight hours still doesn't mean every spring day will be warm and sunny. Spring storms can bring hail and sleet, too.

How can a fisherman dream the dreams of hand-to-hand combat with a game fish when the hailstones pelt the roof of one's truck and shingled roof? One has to relive past hookups and bone jarring strikes when the eyelids become heavy and sleepy-time is the normal course of action.

My wife argues that my personality matches the weather and cold days. She still contends my winterlike activities have not been put aside for the more civilized aspects of our lives, like spending lots of time with each other during a dinner over a well appointed table with a candle and a glass or two of Chianti or white zinfandel.

That aside, I blame my ridiculous weather-related behavior on an evil man named Adam Marton. This former North Shore chaser of debutantes is a crackerjack video producer who relishes fishing time on such notable streams such as the Brule and St. Joe. He has been known to take his fly fishing passion to Belize and Cuba for the kind of thrills one gets when one accidentally sticks a piece of metal into an wall socket.

Like a former dentist I used for decades, Adam is also a crazed steelhead angler who sold his Chicago house and convinced his wife to move to southwest Michigan. His relocation coincided with his madness to be close to the steelhead mecca of the St. Joe River.

His obsession leached over to my side of the county.

"If you don't have any steelhead flies, you'll have to create some," he commanded.

So it was back to the fly table to come up with my usual ugly, wildly adorned flies. I discovered that the uglier the pattern, the better the catch ratio. Go figure.

I didn't speak to my wife for three days.

And when I finished kluging together my goofy Frankenstein collection of tinsel and feathers, I called Marton and told him I was ready to meet him on his territory.

"Hold off a week or two," he suggested. "The river is very high and super fast. But at least you'll have some killer flies, eh?" The air hissed its way out of my lungs. Where was all this excitement?

I hung up and then proceeded to the jewelry store and purchased a new necklace for me wife.

Atonement is tough.

• Contact Mike Jackson at angler88@comcast.net, catch his radio show 7-9 a.m. Sundays on WGCO 1590-AM (live-streamed at www.1590WCGO.com) and get more content at www.mikejacksonoutdoors.com.

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