What does the Pirate do for a living

I have been asked many times what I do for a living. What was I doing for Sir Van Asswipe and his lovely and gracious wife, Peach? How did you fill their pockets with so much money?

My usual response when I'm asked by my wife, my kids or their friends, is I'm a hired killer, an assassin. I travel from place to place exterminating the blight of our world. Removing the sick animal from the herd in order to save the rest of the herd.

My target could be a small town businessman or business partner who has stolen millions from the local economy or those who trusted them, an ex-mobster that has found a paradise to hide in for their retirement, a child molester who continues to prey on the innocent, a drug dealer who has thwarted the law, a spouse abuser that avoids help and continues to terrorize those most reliant upon them. Bascially I am a social-oncologist removing a cancer from society, that has to be removed.

At first calling one's self a killer makes people snicker and roll their eyes. Then eventually they begin to think I might not be kidding, they either recoil from the potential danger of fratinizing with a being like myself or they kiddingly make remarks about my next target and attempt to assure me they are in my corner; buddies if you will. Most often no matter what side one comes down on believing me, I leave doubt in their eyes about me. Their assessment of my social involvement, my faith in God, my love of my family and friends, the ever present smile in my eyes and the constant humorous slant to my observations makes many believe that I am pulling their legs. My ability to only provide ambiguous information about my work and travel secures their fears I might be telling the truth.

To some I am a Pirate sailing from port to port gloating my last conquest and filling the tavern patron's bellies with cold beer and more spirited drink, leaving extra on the headboard for the damsel who surrendered to the filth of my piracy the evening before and consuming most of the air in every gathering about the town. going about the port spreading crumbs of my conquer in my wake. Creating legend, myth and dispair for all those who have witnessed or endurred my visit.

To some I may be their sports hero who scored hundreds of points on the hardwood and the grid iron, a sports legend that only rivaled the likes of Simpson, Ruth, West or Montana. Others may have known me through their reliance on my tender love toward them or through the unsettling way I rarely sit still. I know there are those who know me by my father's name and by the way my mother loved me. Many who originally doubted me that now firmly stand in my corner and the opposite of that.

I often tell people that I am a teller of tales spinning yarn in search for pulp. I have been known to tell people that I am a doer or a lay about, a dandy or a rough, others are told that I am an artist, a thief, a chief, and a crook. My favorite self imposed praise is that of a father to four, a husband, a son, a brother and a friend.

What do I do is a tough question for me. One that is hard to answer, not because I am trying to be difficult or am denying my vocation but because I do not know myself. On my tax return I claim to be an Industrial Appraiser. An appraiser of manufacturer's sites, applying several approaches to value and putting my hard earned college major, economics, to work to determine the value of a facility and how it fits in the micro and macro sense of its own industry.

But is that what I do? Or is it the means to pay for what I prefer to do? Am I to be defined by my choice of career or by my ambitions? Is it to be said the Pirate was a bolt-counter or he lived his life doing what came to him every day?