Unlike my Father, I will go beyond the good intention stage. My Father was an intelligent man. He was funny and creative. He dreamed big dreams. He was always going to “do” something. One thing that he got into was making knives. He bought shaping machines, polishers and steel. He went to knife shows and got excited when people told him he had talent. He started to make knives. And... that's it. He started. My father never finished anything. He died young of alcohol; a life incomplete, unfinished. I still have one of his half completed knives in my tool box, a “what could have been.” I won't be that, I will be a finished knife, sharp and polished. I will write; and I'll cut a sucka'.
HILL BLOCKS VIEW IS DEAD.
...long live, Hill Blocks View. I miss writing. But the thought of one more round of "welcome backs", or obsessing over stats, or thinking of the clever response to a comment, or the obligation to read everyone else's blog... not so much. So I'll try and write. No pressure. If you feel the need to respond, you can email me. I like email. firstname.lastname@example.org
Sunday, January 30, 2011
A Gator, an Incomplete Knife, and a Writer.
For proper effect, you should hum “The Battlefield Hymn of the Republic”, “Eye of the Tiger”, or some other inspirational song while reading this. But, not “Wind Beneath My Wings”, cause that's weak.