Every day is my dad's day since he died. But, I have been thinking about him a lot lately since I finally got my voice to break well on command for yodeling. I've been yodeling my little heart out, and as unhip a a talent as it may be, it is so him.
I remember him easily in so many incarnations... the inventor jack-of-all-trades, the simple farmer, the honest patriarch. But the man I recently recalled was the most overt, but slow to be remembered: the singing cowboy with the charismatic stage presense of someone who loved to perform. This is what drew people to him. Someone asked me to yodel (in public) for them the other day and I couldn't do it. It carries so loud and I'm not that terrific yet... and I felt like I had betrayed myself.
should have just yodeled right there. That's sort of the lesson I remembered from my dad this week. Just yodel like you're alone in the shower whenever the urge strikes you. (i.e. be yourself and don't worry about whether or not you are tragically unhip.)
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2 comments:
I loved your dad. He was a great man.
being yourself and tragically unhip may not just be stemmed from single side of you tree, shake some branches
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