Our store in downtown Toronto is located at 199 Queen Street East between Jarvis and Sherbourne on the south side of Moss Park. We relocated here 5 years ago from the southwest corner of Front and Church because this spot offered the combination of the right store size, the right ceiling height (high), a location that is within a 15 minute walk of King and Bay, ample parking at the front door and a place across the street where customers can cast a line. You would be surprised at how few places that have this combination are available in a city the size of Toronto. When we moved here more than a few of our customers raised an eye brow because, well, this can be a ‘colourful’ neighbourhood – especially during the summer months. Moss Park across the street from us is book-ended by a Salvation Army drop-in centre at the east end of the park and the Fred Victor Centre, a government subsidized housing complex, at the west end and our store is located on the south side of Queen Street almost exactly between the two.

A few doors east of our store is the Moss Park Restaurant. This place is a small diner that has been in business since Christ was a carpenter and it is run by my friend Spiros. I still remember the first day I walked into the restaurant for breakfast because, well, how do I put this? Let’s just say I was the only one wearing a suit. That first morning when I walked in more than a few people seated in the restaurant looked at me as I sat down for breakfast beside them with a “What are YOU doing HERE?” look. I smiled and said hello to everyone whose eyes locked with mine and as soon as they recognized that I was comfortable in their presence and willing to give them the courtesy everyone wants to receive, Spiros came over and asked quietly if I wanted a coffee. I looked up at him that morning, smiled and said, “Absolutely!” and a friendship was struck.

Spriros is originally from Greece and ironically is from the same town in which our store manager, Vasilios “Bill” Katraouras, was born. How’s that for a small world? That connection with Bill and my frequent trips back with suppliers and friends to what I often refer to as my ‘satellite office’ have solidified my acceptance within the Moss Park community and I appreciate being welcomed into the neighbourhood. In hindsight I now recognize that first visit was likely one of those moments that could have gone REALLY badly. A lot of the people who come here have fallen on hard times and my sitting among them in a business suit was not intended to make anyone uncomfortable. We were all wearing what we normally wear during the week. What it came down to was how we treated one another. With kindness and respect. I was raised to accept people as they are, help when I can, and be humble. I will be forever thankful that my parents instilled those goals in me – and I will also be the first to admit that I sometimes lose site of those goals. Thankfully, when that happens my family is there to gently remind me to not get too full of myself because, as the saying goes, “There but for the grace of God go I…” I am also thankful that my oldest sister Ferol (who recently passed away) took me aside after I graduated from university all those years ago and explained to me that if I wanted to get ahead in life (and in business) I had to always remember that ‘bosses’ are not the ones who run the world – it is their employees who do. I have always kept that lesson in mind and I try to make a point every day of asking people how they are doing. Perhaps unlike others, I look them in the eye when I say it and take a few moments when I can to chat because, well, it makes a difference. The people with whom I speak may not think their response makes a difference to my day, but it does. Ferol and my mom and dad made me realize that treating people with respect – even when simply asking if they are having a nice day – means something. I do it because it means something to me as well and I want to set a good example for my son Jake.

On that note, I look forward to bringing Jake and his mom down to the Moss Park Restaurant and introducing them to Spiros and the other people I see at the restaurant because it makes a difference. Even a small one…

Wow – what a difference a year makes! Today marks the end of what has been by far our best January in our store’s history. Thanks go out to our customers who have made WILSON’S their fly shop of choice – we greatly appreciate your support.

Our owner, Jim Wilson, is in Bozeman today meeting with Simms and he will be back tomorrow with what we hope will be some great news… stay tuned!

Over the course of the 14 years our shop has been open I have had the privilege of meeting a lot of really nice people who share the passion of fly fishing. At the risk of self-serving generalization, in my experience the people who are attracted to our sport are a pretty good group who I would normally like spending time with regardless of whether they fished or not. Like many in our sport, whenever I am travelling I try to take a moment when visiting a new city to check out the local fly shop and last week was one of those times when I met a really nice guy while visiting another nice fly shop.

I have always heard great things about the city of St. John’s Newfoundland and after years of looking for the right time to visit I finally found myself on a flight there last week… that was of course diverted to Gander because the St. John’s airport was closed due to fog. We sat on the tarmac in Gander for 3 hours hoping for the weather to change and literally while the decision to return to Toronto was being contemplated the fog lifted and we were able to complete our flight.

My parents were born in New Brunswick and although I was born in North Bay Ontario I like to call myself a “Maritimer once removed” because the people in this part of Canada are some of the warmest, down-to-earth folks you will ever meet and I like to think I am similar because of my family DNA (or at least I try to be). I have been told by many people over the years that the degree of warmth and friendliness you find in Canada’s Maritime provinces is exponentially greater in Newfoundland and Labrador and having now visited the city of St. John’s I have to agree. Marie Lewis in the reservations department at the Delta St. John’s went out of her way to make my stay pleasant and the people I met in the bars on George Street and Water Street after our meetings were done could not have been nicer. Which leads me back to fly fishing…

There is a fly shop in St. John’s called the Blue Charm and it is owned and run by one Oisin McMahan. The shop is located just west of the downtown core (a walkable distance in summer but a short taxi ride in winter) and when I walked in and introduced myself Oisin welcomed me like an old friend. We ended up chatting for the better part of an hour and talked about the issues we share as store owners before I had to leave. When I asked about calling a taxi Oisin would have none of it. He quickly put a note on the door that said “Back in 15″ and we jumped into his car for the quick ride back to the hotel. As he pulled up to the front door of the hotel he turned to me and said, “You know Jim, in a business that has a lot of characters you are one of the few sane people I have met. It was really nice to meet you!” With that we shook hands and I made a promise that I would call ahead the next time I am in town so we can get out to do some fishing. It was a privilege meeting Oisin and seeing his store and I look forward to keeping that promise. Our conversation in particular and the opportunity to chat freely with a fellow fly shop owner was an unexpected bonus to my trip and it capped a great – albeit brief – first visit to St. John’s.

It really does come down to the people that you meet!

I had the pleasure of joining Steph Leroux from North Bay and Tyler Dunsmore of FlyWaterGuiding.com for a drift boat trip on the lower Grand River this past Saturday and it was simply a great day. In my opinion there are only a handful of competent fly fishing guides in Ontario and Tyler is on that list. We put in at Bean Park in Paris (where by the way Tyler and his family live) and drifted south of Highway 403 past Sara’s Island and finished the day over a Guiness and deep fried perch from Lake Ontario at the Cobblestone Pub (http://www.cobblestonepub.ca/) in downtown Paris. Although the fish might have cooperated more the weather could not have been better and Tyler’s professionalism, hard work and great shore lunch(!) made our day on the water all that we had hoped and more.

Tyler has guided on the Miramichi River in New Brunswick, on Vancouver Island, the BC interior, in Chile and Argentina and we are lucky to have another guide of his caliber available to book in southern Ontario. Because he lives in Paris his guiding is focused on the lower Grand River and Whiteman’s Creek and he does both walk & wade and drift boat trips. If you are looking for a guide who can take you fishing on world class water that is just over a 60 minute drive from downtown Toronto give Tyler a call today.

For more information on his services check out www.flywaterguiding.com

I have a ‘hands free’ system in my car so I can talk on my cell phone while driving. As I was coming home the other day I reached for my phone but dropped it on the console between the driver’s seat and the passenger seat. I was parking so finished the task at hand before rummaging for it and as I picked it up I noticed that the screen was illuminated. I glanced to see whether it was an incoming call or not and I laughed at first thinking that I was about to incur charges but then looked twice because the number that was dialing was that of my mother who passed away in 2008. I then froze at the realization of whose number it was – and that the phone was ringing. Then I heard a voice…

“Hello?”

It was the friendly, soft voice of a woman and I have to admit that for that fraction of a second I thought I was speaking with my mother from beyond the grave.

“Hi… I’m sorry. My name is Jim and I dropped my phone and it mis-dialed. I just realized that I just mistakenly dialed what used to be my mother’s phone number… I’m sorry. I didn’t know her number was still programmed into my cell phone…”

“Oh. Do you mean Esma Wilson?”

I was shocked that she knew my mother’s name but gathered my composure and replied, “…Yes”

“We have had a couple of calls from people looking for her since we got this number. Sorry, what was your name again?”

I paused. “My name is Jim Wilson and Esma was my mother… and she was a great mom.” Talking about her made me smile. “I am sure she would appreciate you taking good care of this number for her. Sorry to bother you – have a good night…”

With that we said goodbye – but for that briefest of moments, I could hear my mother’s voice again and it felt as if we had just chatted.

You know, life take’s funny turns and what I initially thought was going to be an embarrassingly quick apology for dialing a wrong number turned into a special moment that made my week. That was perhaps the best dropped call I have ever made and I don’t think I am going to delete the number from my cell phone just yet because, to be honest, I hope to mis-dial it again.

Miss you Mom…