Recently I was editing a video that contained a sappy country song (Tim McGraw, "My Little Girl"). My daughter Ruby who is 7 heard the song and started to cry. Apparently she equated this tune about a little girl growing up and leaving her father to get married with my eminent demise. She doesn't want me to die. I have news little girl neither do I. But I will. I became a dad later than most. Barring catastrophic disease or accident I could still dance with her at her wedding and bounce my grandchildren on my withered lap. It's my intention.
The remarkable physical transformation children undergo as the grow is matched only by the metamorphosis of their minds.
What I am reading : The World That Made New Orleans - From Spanish Silver to Congo Square
What I am watching : My children grow really fast
What I am listening to: The Flaming Lips
Portland, OR
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