Thinking about your last day here is pretty morbid and not something we tend to do very often, yet I've bumped into a few people that have requested a fishing-related send off. One good friend and guide on New York's Salmon River made me promise that when he went, I'd see to it a plaque was placed at his favorite spot. Another buddy insists on being buried in his white rubber deck boots. As for me, I haven't given it much thought, though I think my wife would like to bury me with the 8-foot tarpon mount in our house for no other reason than to finally get it off the wall. Condolences to the Bloss family, and thanks for letting Ronald be an angler to the end.