When I was little I had two goals- I wanted to write, and become a Pirate.
On most days I saw no reason I couldn’t do both.
I was eight at the time.
Out of my two life goals the Pirate gig seemed to be doable and practical.
I could see myself sailing a ship, bossing around a crew of scurvy sea dogs and kicking heinie in all of the Seven Seas and a few lakes and rivers to boot.
I didn’t care so much about finding treasure, but the idea of sneaking up on another Pirate ship in the middle of the night and stealing their flag and crew?
My little old heart would race with happiness thinking about what kind of things I could do as a Pirate.
I would go to church just so I could pray like crazy for God to please make me a Pirate.
Please God, I’d pray, I don’t want to be a stewardess or a waitress or a Mom. I want to be a pirate and sail a big black ship and have other Pirates be so scared of me and my crew that they’d all stay home and I would have the Ocean to myself.
And for some reason I had it in my head that I’d leave the Ferry Boats alone and probably fishing boats too.
Fishing boats because I used to love fish sticks and unless someone went out there and fished I figured I’d probably starve to death and as for the Ferry Boats? Well. Back in the day my family went to Victoria BC so I didn’t see any reason to give up on my great family vacations – so for sure the Ferry Boats wouldn’t have to worry about me or my wicked crew.
Nowadays there are times when I’m riding the bus home for work, or when I’m in line at the grocery store and I remember those days when anything seemed possible and I thought one day I’d be a Pirate.
And after a moment or two, I think…you know…anything is possible.
After all, I did manage to become a writer ( of sorts )
So anything is possible.
Anything at all.