For my all tough, red-bearded ancestors, up there in Valhalla
My Viking ancestors spent days like this chopping down trees and building ships with their bare hands.
Then, they would sail those ships across freezing oceans to distant lands.
There, they’d kill people, burn their villages and steal whatever they could.
Ugly, short, and bloody.
Fuelled by large amounts of alcohol and meat, those men instilled fear into the hearts of people all over Europe.
Leif the Fortunate, son of Eric the Red. Greenland. Photo from telegraph.co.uk.
And a thousand or so years later, I sit here on the sofa, or sometimes stay in bed with my laptop and a cup of coffee.
And somehow, people I will never meet, in foreign countries I may never visit, pull out their credit cards and send me their hard earned money.
Possibly the only things I have in common with those Vikings (apart from our shared genetics) is our love for beer and women from faraway lands.
But I wanted to write this to thank some of those nameless red-bearded men who worked hard and fought and lived brutal, hardscrabble lives in frozen villages in Scandanavia.
Men who couldn’t possibly imagine how easy my life is today, as a result of their winning the battle for survival.
Yes, folks, it’s another launch day. I’m up on Udemy. And I’m expecting big things.
If you’ve been around here awhile, or if you know me in person, you know that launch days make me go a little bit crazy.
And today that craziness is expressing itself as gratitude to those guys who fought, drank and fucked their way across Europe.
Cheers, prost, salud!
And every other damn thing… Enjoy the afterlife up in Valhalla.
I’ll drink to your memory tonight. Right after I’m done with my day job.
I mean it.