I once had a small gathering at my house and I was cooking up some chicken wings for everyone.

I typically deep fry chicken wings in an old moonshine still out in the garage. At these gatherings, some actual moonshine might make an appearance. Pretty soon the whole neighborhood is in the garage, eating chicken wings and drinking moonshine.

Those were some fun nights.

At one of these gatherings, a professional fisherman showed up. His major sponsor was a nationally known chicken wing franchise.

I don’t want to say who it is, in case he or they don’t like this story…

Anyway, this professional fisherman shows up at my house, and I know he’s a professional fisherman because he’s pulling an incredibly beautiful bass boat behind an incredibly cool-looking pickup truck, both all decked out in one of my favorite chicken wing place’s logos.

He’s also wearing all their clothing, like an astronaut returning from the moon in his space suit.

I told him to grab a plate of wings. “But we’re gonna need all the bones.”

He said, “Excuse me? You want my chicken wing bones?”

I said, “Yeah. We just shot Colonel Sanders in the ass peeking in the backyard, trying to steal this chicken wing recipe. We don’t want you taking anything back to the lab to reverse engineer anything.”

“I’m just messing with you. Enjoy. Have some moonshine. We cooked that in the same still right before the chicken wings. Tell the chefs that’s the secret ingredient.

Man, I wish I had your job. You get to fish all day? That’s gotta be a killer gig.”

He tore into a chicken wing and said, “You like to go fishing?”

I said, “Every chance I get. My wife, too. She’s actually more competitive and rubs it in when she outfishes me.”

He said, “It sounds like you enjoy it. Then you definitely don’t want my job.”

That surprised me.

“You don’t like fishing anymore?” I asked.

“Not like I did before. It’s ironic. I got this job because I love fishing. Once I got the job, it stopped being fun.

Fishing itself is fun.

However, if I don’t score a certain amount of points in the next tournament or place high enough, then my livelihood is threatened. If I don’t continue to do well, I might lose my sponsor. I have those worries.

So, you know that saying that a bad day fishing is better than a good day at work?”

I said, “Yeah?”

He said, “It doesn’t apply to me. For me, a bad day fishing is also a bad day at work. It’s no longer a hobby that I enjoy. So if you like fishing, and it sounds like you do, you don’t want my job.”

I thought about that for a moment, then said, “I say the same thing about my chicken wings. If you like chicken wings, then don’t try mine.”

He said, “Why’s that? These are delicious, by the way.”

I said, “Because every chicken wing you eat after this is going to be a disappointment compared to the one you’re eating right now. You just don’t realize it yet.”

He started laughing and almost choked.

I said, “Well, wouldn’t that be a headline? Professional chicken wing fisherman dies in garage, choking while eating the best chicken wing in the world.”

He laughed and choked harder.

“Stop talking!”

So, I just write because I enjoy writing, and that’s it.

I write for the sake of writing, that’s why I write. I enjoy the activity of doing it.

If I did it for any other reason, it wouldn’t be something I do for the enjoyment of it anymore. It would just become a task to achieve some other goal.