In our walk-in bedroom closet, wife Ginny’s assorted shoes, clothing and other normal “women things” occupying her share of the shelves and hangers. In my portion of closet space, coexisting with a few clothing items, are boxes of lures, old reels in need of repair, spools of fishing line and fishing discards that I quite can’t bring myself to trash.

Down in the hall closet Ginny has democratically allocated a few additional shelves for yet more of my “fishing junk.”  These shelves are packed solid with fishing devices and lures, spools of half used fishing line plus the ever present monofilament line trailing out from under the closed closet door. 

Every once in a while, when I have nothing to do, I might start rummaging through this stock of fishing supplies. Then, at the first distraction, I’ll sloppily shove everything back into the cramped shelves, letting all those items languish until the next time I feel like surveying my treasure trove of goodies. Why, you may ask, don’t I give away, sell or throw most of it out? As the comedian George Carlin might say, “I need my STUFF!” 

To be honest, I’d be hard pressed to quickly locate a specific lure without a torturous search of our garage, home office, hall closet or the walk-in closet in our bedroom. Ginny, using “positive reinforcement,” has even gone so far as to purchase a series of plastic containers in which to organize my many disparate angling items. With all the good intentions in the world, I just never can find the time to initiate this sensible activity. Besides, it’s much more fun playing fishing tackle “hide-and-seek.”

But I must say, it really isn’t brain surgery. My rod and reel collection is to be found (a) in one corner of our living room, (b) in the vestibule, (c) in a corner of our bedroom, (d) in my studio office, and occasionally (d) in the walk-in bedroom closet. For example, if I had to find a baitcaster for the next day’s fishing, it’s a simple matter of checking out all these places and perhaps a couple more spots until the appropriate weapon is located. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or so.

If you were to check the drawer in the table next to the couch where I sit (when our Maine Coon cat lets me,) you will stumble upon another cornucopia of fishing treasures. There are goodies such as hooks, swivels, split rings, a line stripper, needle nose pliers, a split ring tool, leader dispensers, discarded line, reel oil, broken lures, old sun glasses, plus a host of other fishing curios.

Amazingly, just when the drawer appears filled to capacity, I’m always able to slide in another lure, a broken calculator, that warrantee card from a new reel, a pamphlet on fishery regulations, or a defective wrist watch. I don’t know if I should be admitting all of this, yet I suspect that I’m not the only tackle slob around. Come now... ‘fess up. You too have similar uncouth, pack-rat tendencies when it comes to your fishing related possession.

Okay, so I'm a "Tackle Junkie"... an unreconstructed tackle pack rat!... an unabashed sucker for the latest fishing doohickey the moment it comes out on the market.
For years I was convinced that this was just my own personal addiction.  Then I discovered I was not alone in my malady. Checking out the closets and garages of friends, I found tackle accumulations that would easily put my relatively puny collection to shame. Some were so extensive that I’m convinced that, if they lost their day job, some guys could set up a tackle store with all that junk.  

Then again, there are those in our fishing fraternity who are disgustingly incurable “neatniks.” One who comes to mind is my good friend and renowned Hudson fishing guide, Captain Dennis Roysten. Here is a guy who has all his fishing rods maid out in perfectly aligned rod racks affixed to the ceiling of his garage.  All the baitcasters make a symmetrical progression from small to large, followed by a similar sequence of spinning outfits. He’s got every hat and cap he’s ever owned neatly displayed around the perimeter of the garage. Various lures are stowed away in  uniform boxes that are clearly marked with their content. Get a Life Dennis! Be a slob like the rest of us. 

My biggest hurdle is sneaking a new purchase past my wife Ginny.  I might say, making my case to her, "I know I told you that Shimano was "it" for me, but this new Diawa Capricorn reel has a super-slick bail release and is smooth as silk." If only those tackle designers would keep their ideas to themselves. Then perhaps we junkies would have fewer spousal arguments and more harmonious marriages.