I like to think of myself as a freelance adventurer. I guess it’s an idea I picked up when I was a kid. Too many video games. Too much time to myself.
Not enough friends.
But looking back on my life so far, the title fits. I never stay in one place for long. I’m always taking on new and different jobs. I’ve had the worst of times and the best of times but always on my own terms. I’ve traveled all over the world. Right now I’m living in South America. That’s got to count as some kind of adventure, right?
I like to think of myself as an observer. Watching the story unfold around me. Being part of it but always on the periphery. I have never considered myself a journalist. Journalists report impartially, from outside the story. I prefer being inside of it. I don’t think you can ever really tell a story without putting yourself inside of it somehow. Even if it’s just your bias affecting how and what you observe and report. So I prefer honesty. I’m going to tell you what my part in the story was. Even if it was stupid. Or embarassing. Or ugly.
Here, I tell the stories that I have seen and lived, and that continue to unfold around me. And not just around me. All of our lives are filled with stories. Yours. Mine. Everyone we see and meet and know and love. It’s something base, something primal to us as humans. We all love a good story. Just pay attention the next time someone is talking to you about anything. Chances are that you will hear a story being told.
So cheers. Saludos. Nasdrovia. Slainte. Here’s to you and here’s to me. And all of the stories we have to tell.