Sure you'd rather stay inside all weekend re-reading your favorite Toy Department features. But let's face it, you're starting to smell bad. Bugs are circling your head. And it's time to move so someone can vacuum under the couch. As we do every Friday in this space, may we humbly suggest you do everyone a favor and, "Get out!" Click here for previous editions. 

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the striped bass fishing season.

Thousands of anglers, tired of a winter's worth of being inside, will race to the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries to launch boats. Thousands more will line beaches and breakwaters, piers and bridges to wet a line and maybe catch one of the species that enjoys the designation of state fish.

The striped bass, or rockfish, as it is known here, migrates up the bay each spring to spawn. At least three-quarters of the East Coast's striper population was conceived, born and raised here. The females swim to upper bay tributaries to meet Mr. Right. 

Just think of the bay as a giant dating bar without a cover charge.

The striped population was almost fished to extinction before Maryland and other states imposed a five-year moratorium. The biggest fish--some approaching 50-inches in length--are the products of that decision to put the fishing gear away.