The name would seem to be a spoof, Mark Fisher.

It's not.

He is an actual fisher, yes -- one who seeks fish and, not incidentally, gets paid to do it.

But that's also his name, Fisher.

Mark Fisher.

And what he does to earn a paycheck might turn other fishers green with envy.

He tests lures, Rapalas specifically, seeing how each moves through the water, how deep they run and how quickly they catch fish.

Fisher also helps think up new Rapalas, part of a worldwide quest that by quirk of fate is centered, to a large degree, here in the Twin Cities.

"Mine is a passion-driven job," he said.

A digression:

In 1960, Twin Cities fishing tackle representative Ron Weber ordered 500 lures from Lauri Rapala, a Finnish man who hand-carved lures from balsa wood. Weber convinced his friend Ray Ostrom, who owned a Lake Street sporting goods store, to sell the lures.

Eventually, Weber and Ostrom formed Normark Co. to import and distribute the lures. Business boomed after Ostrom helped plant a small story about Rapala lures in a Life magazine issue that featured Marilyn Monroe on the cover.

Weber and Ostrom were deluged with more than 3 million orders.

Fast forward to 2008.

Today, every Rapala sold in the United States arrives first in the Twin Cities in an overseas container, delivered to the Rapala warehouse in Minnetonka. From there, the lures are repackaged for shipment and sale in California and Florida, New York and Alaska.

And every state in between.

In time, Weber and Ostrom sold Normark, and today, Rapala is a public company, its shares traded on the Helsinki stock exchange.

And Mark Fisher, 55, one-time owner of a downtown Minneapolis sign-painting company, is in the thick of it, fishing.

And thinking about fishing.

"I've got one foot in the development side of the business and one foot in the promotion side," he said.

Ideas for new lures, whether species-specific, such as the Skitter Walk, which is primarily a bass bait, or the Shad Rap -- more of a multispecies bait -- often come from one or more members of the design and development team at Rapala's Minnetonka office.

As often, they come from Rapala's vast network of professional anglers or others who make their livings trying to catch fish.

"Advanced technology has allowed Rapala to design and market lures that were never before possible," Fisher said. "Our designers here work on concepts, then talk to the designers at Rapala in Finland. Whether it's putting rattles in our lures or weight-transfer systems to allow for longer casts, our goal always is to trigger fish strikes."

As was the case when Lauri Rapala carved his first lure, each Rapala is still hand-carved. And hand-tuned.

Meaning, on occasion, a little water ends up in a box.

"I've had people call and tell me we sold them used lures," Fisher said. "I say, 'Why do you think that?' And they say because their new lure has water drops on it."

Fisher has worked full-time for Rapala for eight years. Before that, for a dozen years or so, while owning his sign-painting business, he was on the Rapala Pro Staff.

"When I was young, I was like a lot of kids in Minnesota," Fisher said. "I fished with my family, especially on our two-week vacations to Alexandria. Then, when I was older, I got into fishing on a level I didn't know existed. I began looking more at it as a puzzle. It was all part of maturing as an angler."

When he had a chance to sell his business and go work full-time for Rapala, he jumped at it. Now he is one of about 80 employees at the Minnetonka office and warehouse.

Rapalas are so good at catching fish, Fisher said, the lure owns the world record of world records: more than 300 world-record fish have been caught on Rapala lures, far exceeding any other bait.

Color is one reason. More Rapalas come in more designs and colors than ever. Lures that suspend at certain depths when movement stops are also part of a revolution intended to target fish in places they historically couldn't be reached.

"To see a lure that starts on the drawing board and ends up on Rainy Lake or another lake catching walleyes," Fisher said, "is fascinating."