It's not his usual pub, he's gone to a town far from his. He sits at the bar and slowly nurses a drink. The bartender sees his glum and inquires what his troubles are.
Sighing, he begins his tale. "I raise 5 kids from birth to adulthood and send them on their way to good, independent lives. Yet am I known as Connor the Father? No."
"I build good roads all my life, no corners cut, no detail skipped. Am I known as Connor the builder? Nope."
Turning to face the bartender, his voice rises. "Gave to the church every Sunday, and always helped those in need. But do they call me Connor the Christian?" He waves his hand in dismissal. "Not a snowball's chance in hell."
Downing his drink and a thousand yard stare forming in his eyes he utters the last "But 35 years ago as a drunken idiot lad *you fuck* **one sheep!!!**"
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