For all the lowly seamen out there

Ooh, here is a letter that awoke some long forgotten memories from the Button's memory banks...may have to take a stroll down to the dock tonight, just for old times sake...

Captain Buttons!
My job sucks the life out of me. Canvassing is the succubus on my belief in the good of humanity. I am too broke to quit. What should i do captain buttons~Miserably employed

Ooh arr me hearty

Your letter takes me back to my own canvasing days, though then i was amending a mainsail, and i sense you have more of a landlubber canvasing occupation.

Tis' true, the lowly position can sometimes be a tough one, i had my own trials serving my time as cabin boy, BUT Mis Emp, look where i am now...fattly retired and able employ my day dispensing advice to the needy, and rum to me and Mrs Buttons.  Let me tell you a story...

When i was but a mere snap of a button i found myself marooned in a remote, tropical island port with not a doubloon to my name.  My choices were to sell my sweet buttony self to the local tavern goers, to take to the jungle and live off the land, or to sign up to the one ship in port - which was offering me little more than a square of deck space on which to rest my weary plastic after long long days of serving my fellow shipmates.  I choose the latter option - and though the going was rough at first, eventually the ship took on smaller fry, allowing me to grow into the position of respect that you can see I hold today.

You, my dear Miserable One, are already asail on the ship of your life's adventure, Yes it is sometimes hard to be bottom of the pile (it really is), but you don't get your golden fleece without a passage through the Symplegades.

Only the brave survive this adventure, and you didn't want to live the useless life of a weak, sotten port-poke did you? NO!  So you jumped aboard the only ship in town.  Now, if you do not despairingly jump ship, you WILL ascend.  It is very hard to remain a peon, simply because as the years pass, the new desperate press ganged crew can only be below you - and you know what they make?  A glorious, malnourished, rickety limbed bridge to your sweet future.

sail on silver bird
sail on by
(as the old shanty goes)

Captain, a little misty thinking about me past, so had to have a tot 'o grog, Buttons