My family gets together once a year. The day is all stories and music from one end to the other. As a child, I assumed all adults played or told tales.

Then, at five, the real teaching began. My grandfather, now twenty years dead, taught me to tell tales. My Uncle Joe started me singing and drumming. My mother sat me down every tuesday night to hear songs she played on guitar. I was in school for three years before I found out this wasn't the norm for everyone.

Now, I have a nephew who learns to tell stories from me. My wife plays fiddle with the family.

We all have different, wonderful stories of where we come from, and what made us what we are.

Bah, it's late. I'm getting misty eyed thinking about the past, and my bed is surely warmer than this keyboard! Still, it's nice to hear all the tales.

Mikal