Saturday, May 29, 2004
Saturday Question of the Day
Every Saturday I'll try to come up with some "out there" question that just makes you stop and think about something not so important. Think of it as a mini vacation. If you have any ideas drop me a line and we'll throw it in here. Who knows, it might be fun.
OK - Here goes:
What is your most precious possession? Now, I'm not talking people - we all know our family and friends are precious - I'm talking about some item that means the world to you.
For me it's a mandolin that I have that used to be my father's. Back in the mid '30s a hobo wandered on to my Grandfather's farm looking for room and board in exchange for work. Grandpa took him on and gave him a room in the barn. It seems this guy loved to play the mandolin and my father (as a young child) loved to listen to him. Well, as it turns out the hobo was ill and died. My grandparents let my dad keep the mandolin. Just before he died in '72, my father gave the mandolin to his best friend. No one had any idea at that time that I would end up as musical as I did.
Four years ago I went home for the Christmas holidays. I like to try and sing at my mother's church if I'm home long enough. I did my little number, and as it happens Dad's friend was in the congregation. He came up and asked if he could stop by the house. He did, and he brought the mandolin. He told me the story about it, since I had no memory of it at all. I cried. That mandolin sits in a place of honor in my house. It's my most precious possession.
What's yours?
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OK - Here goes:
What is your most precious possession? Now, I'm not talking people - we all know our family and friends are precious - I'm talking about some item that means the world to you.
For me it's a mandolin that I have that used to be my father's. Back in the mid '30s a hobo wandered on to my Grandfather's farm looking for room and board in exchange for work. Grandpa took him on and gave him a room in the barn. It seems this guy loved to play the mandolin and my father (as a young child) loved to listen to him. Well, as it turns out the hobo was ill and died. My grandparents let my dad keep the mandolin. Just before he died in '72, my father gave the mandolin to his best friend. No one had any idea at that time that I would end up as musical as I did.
Four years ago I went home for the Christmas holidays. I like to try and sing at my mother's church if I'm home long enough. I did my little number, and as it happens Dad's friend was in the congregation. He came up and asked if he could stop by the house. He did, and he brought the mandolin. He told me the story about it, since I had no memory of it at all. I cried. That mandolin sits in a place of honor in my house. It's my most precious possession.
What's yours?
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