Wednesday, February 27, 2008

The History At Home | Snapshot 9

Some days, I'm so busy in the trenches with Little Man, that I miss things. On the way home from the day’s activities, my son's favourite radio station was playing his little music groove . The song ended and there was abrupt this interview with some dude who had worked with Myron Cope. Yoi! I nearly pull the car over. Double Yoi! Myron Cope made his transition.

My parent's were big Steelers fans. I was a big Steeler fan. Steeler Sundays meant that my mother would forget to check on me during my mandatory 1:00 until 5:00 academic review.

“Academic review?“ mutters dear reader.

Yes, academic review meant sitting at my desk, every Sunday afternoon. I was not allowed to read books-for-pleasure, listen to music or talk on the telephone. This was the day that I triple checked my homework; reread all of my notes, and reread any and all assigned readings.

I hated Sunday afternoon. She would come poking her nose into my room to make sure I was on task. It was really hard to hide the novel I was reading or the page I was doodling or scribbling poetry...she had a keen sense of hearing. (She had keen senses period. She could name your liquor from across the 12 X 12 kitchen on a Saturday night when you were late and didn’t call.)

So, I deeply and passionate loved the Steelers and Steeler Sunday. Thanks to Myron Cope - and his obnoxious voice - I always had a five minute tip off before she came tiptoeing up the stairs to evaluate my work.

I thank my mother for teaching me what it takes to succeed. I thank my mother for training me to excel academically. I thank my mother for forcing to to practice the discipline necessary to be an artist. I thank Myron Cope for helping me teach myself how to dream.

Blessings on your transition, aurally - offensive man who had enough self-esteem to imagine he could be a media personality. See? Anything can happen if you believe enough in yourself.

See Myron for himself here.

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