Thursday, July 30, 2009

We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of this scene, start a brand new colony.

This is our dad.

He plays the banjo. I think that's pretty impressive. But even more impressive than that, he builds banjos. Dad has always been making and breaking things with his hands for as long as I can remember. A true carpenter at heart. He makes beautiful banjos, intricate with perfectly cut abalony shell and carefully sanded designs. I'm not a banjo expert, but I've heard one say that they sound pretty good too.

When I think about our dream, this tiny hatchling of wishing and hoping, I think of my parents. I realize that it's because of them that we've set our feet to dream chasing. How many banjos has my dad made, scrapped and remade? A few at least. But there he sits, playing this beautiful piece of legacy made with hard work, determination and self taught skill.

Thanks to our parents for making us learn the hard way. For not giving us a hand out. For making us earn our allowance. For showing us that you can be good at almost anything if you just try and not letting a failure be the end of the road. Oh, and you have to have the right tools. Right dad? How about a little investment in your daughter's futures? Just kidding...


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