Dear Meatball,

How are you? That was some wind last night. Cold, too, huh? The water was warmer than the air.

Technology is so cool these days, isn’t it? Cars, computers, phones…even headlamps. I remember the first one I bought for fishing. It was little more than a stubby flashlight attached to an elastic headband. Now, you get multiple LEDs with spotlights capable of throwing 45 lumens. Or more. You can see everywhere with those things.

But you already know that. You and your buddies sure got your money’s worth out of your headlamps last night. What’s on the shore? Let’s light it up! Gotta check my rig, or look at my reel? Light it up! Anything in the water in front of me? Turn on the high beams! Is that guy still fishing above us? Scotty, full power searchlights on him!

Here’s the thing: that guy was me. When I’m fishing on the dark of the moon, I want my eyes, which aren’t great in the first place, to adjust to what little ambient light is available. It’s tough enough wading around in the dark without stumbling over submerged rocks and gravel bars. Your 600 candlepower light bombs in my face aren’t making the job any easier. It’s also rude as hell.

What’s more, flashing bright lights in the water in the pitch black of night generally isn’t good for business. Scaring the fish and all that. Which is why I cannot put into words the extent of my delight when you and your Vegas light show packed up and left.

Once you were gone, a funny thing happened. I started to catch stripers. Sure, it could have been a matter of time and tide. Personally, I think it was not having your group trying to replicate the total aggregate wattage of Times Square. The bass came in nice and close, and took my Crazy Menhaden flatwing on the greased line swing with confidence.

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks for leaving.

Your pal,

Steve

Red lights at night, gentlemen. Red lights at night.

*With apologies to Billy Lagakis, from whom I so shamelessly stole this wonderful descriptor.