My name is nobody. That line seems to read sadly doesn’t it? It is far from it. It is in fact an important part of my life. It’s a line that empowered me. It offered me hope and it became a way of life for me.

When I was a mere boy of 14 I was in search of my identity like most early teens. While some boys were established jocks, some boys had scholastic skills that seemed unfair, and others had charisma, I had none of these at the exceptional level in which I felt I knew what I’d do with my life.

At best I had a love for music and sang in my bed at night. That is another story.

From an early age I admired men of mystery. Men that said little, or if they spoke, their words protected them. Two types of men that fit this mold where spies and detectives. Spies would always speak in public with words meant to communicate yet protect their agenda and identity. Little of their life was open on the surface. A spy lived a sad life however because those that loved them most, may never know them, including perhaps a wife. With detectives, they saw life through a different prism, and like spies their senses were sharpened to what they saw in day-to-day life, let alone situations that required finely tuned instincts. Spies had secret lives and lexicons, while detectives read secrets. These people made sense to me. I have always been drawn to those skills. These type of men lived a life where they were essentially unseen, could blend in and saw the world around them in a way other people took for granted. I admired spies and detectives because they were strong and comfortable with being, nobody. They live around us invisibly. They are nobody.