A REAL Hinter's "Ode to Children"

I have four children, which makes me an expert on fathering (quick, read the next sentence before the flaw in that logic surfaces) 

In addition, as a Hintermeister, I have an extra-special something that helps in my fathering...I call it the HINTERmojo. It would be a shame to keep this power a secret, so I'd like to give you my "Ode to Children" that you can use to become a HINTERfather on your own.

But be warned, we do NOT want this power to be released into the general population, so I have encrypted this "Ode". The normal text is what the 'masses' will hear you say...and the italicized text is said in your head, or under your breath preferably as you glare with your HINTEReyes at your kids. This will immerse you in the secret HINTERsauce that will truly make you a fathering expert.

~~~ Ode to My HINTERchildren ~~~

My Darling Children

...which right now stands for DARn-Louder-than-a-traIN-annoying-little-$*#%!-I-missed-what-captain-picard-was-sayinG!

I love you more than life

...Life cereal, that is. But, add fresh raspberries...and a drop of honey, Hmmm, I'd have to think on it

The moment I learned I would be a father, I cried tears of joy

...and fear, anguish, pity, and betrayal. I mean, the Health teacher explicitly said it only happens when Coke and kissing are mixed. I haven't had Coke in years!!! And the missus and I were just getting started in our travels. Lousy educators...I blame them (well, OK...and the jetlag...and the European air...and the gardens...and the 2 hour bullet train to Paris...and...)

When you arrived, you took my breath away

...mostly from nausea and light-headedness...you looked kinda gross. And what a grueling day! I had to sit in a hospital chair for 21 hours...STRAIGHT...and that was pre-iPhone. The anguish can not be compared! At least the missus got drugs and a bed...she was so lucky

As I watch you grow, my heart overflows

...but not my wallet. If I knew how much friggin' money you'd cost me, we might have turned to pet gerbils for love and purpose. They're .034% the cost to feed, they run around naked, and they don't take over my home theatre when I want to watch a movie. Sure they poop in my hands...but so did you until you were three.

I can't believe how blessed I am

...as in the wholesome replacement for a curse word. Example: "Where is that blessed kid!?!" or, "That was a blessed stupid stunt you tried to pull!", or, "These are marshmallows, not a blessed snack...nor ammo!"

What an amazing gift you are

...but a new Nissan 350z Roadster is an amazing gift too...and I could have bought six of them instead of what I spent for sports and braces and clothes and food. Oh, and the Roadster doesn't talk back...unless you count the sweet tones of open-road engine hum...which is quite different from anything that ends in "...hate you Dad!"

One day, you will be out in this world on your own

...Amen, but still sucking money from your patriarical teet, I'm sure

People will see a loving, happy, shining spirit

...which came entirely from your Mom. If they see a moody, shallow, "Nonsense...those shoes will last another year with the proper amount of duct tape!" spirit, that'd be from me

My hope is that the world will look upon you and smile

...cause that's what I'll be doing in MY home theatre

Throughout your life, a part of my heart will always be with you
...I just hope it grows back. I've heard the capacity to love grows, but my new guitar just arrived and I've got a lot of lovin' to do

As long as I am alive, I will always be proud of you. I love you
...which is sayin' something...especially after the "power drill incident" and the "nice chat with the police officer" episodes

Amen.
...Now, plug in that guitar, click 4, and lets rock this joint! There's always room for a metal family band, right?!?

Hospitals Been Beddy Beddy Good to Me

I had just brought my oldest home from getting his appendix out.  As usual, the outcome was great. My quippy comment to a friend was, "Hospitals been beddy beddy good to us" (thank you vintage SNL memory)

Then I stopped...this was nothing to take lightly. 

Our hospital adventures have truly been good experiences, but they could just have as easily turned very bad. Case in point: While I was waiting for my boy to recover from surgery, a mere 10 feet away from me was a family waiting for an "end of life". The husband/father/grandfather had taken a turn for the worse, and the wife/grandmother was sitting with her daughter and son for the final word. 

The nurse came rushing in, "Come now. He just stopped breathing...this might be it".

And they rushed away.

...just like that...for them, it turned very bad.

That was the closest I have come to a bad hospital experience...and I have to ask myself: Why do we seem to always have good hospital adventures, while others have had bad

Even the fact we call them "adventures" points to the positive outcomes.

Why? Is it to teach me a "Right-place-at-the-right-time" life lesson?

When our first-born was born in distress (that's medical-talk for NOT BREATHING), he was revived and spent the night in the NICU. The next day, as he was nicely recovering, they discovered Group B Strep, which resulted in a full 2 week stay at "Hotel Mayo" (complete with $1925/hour baby care). Later they would tell us how lucky we were that he was born in distress...because it forced a longer stay...which let them discover the Group B Strep. It could have been very bad if it was not diagnosed so early. 

Why does it turn out well for us? Is it to teach me the "Thank God you live next to the best medical facility in the world" lesson?

When our twin girls were born, our li'l 4 pounder was put in a bun warmer her first day to keep her temp constant, then was diagnosed with a heart defect. After 2.5 months of not thriving she had open heart surgery (by a doctor who's done over 1000 of them). Now at 10, you'd never know...except a scar that I feel she wears as a "Don't MESS with me...I've already been through worse" attitude beacon.

Any possible answer comes up shallow...except, "I don't know, that's just how it turned out"...which is shallow.

Is it because I'm living such a righteous life? Hardly. I am a very poor example of living right.

Is it because of the awesome medical care? Definitely, but is that the only reason? I know the doctors are awesome, but I know they're NOT batting a thousand.

I know I'm supposed to say "It's because we've been very blessed", but I have a hard time with that answer. If I'm blessed with good, then does that mean someone else is cursed with bad? What about those that are better believers than me that have had to deal with the very bad? If they're cursed with bad, then it doesn't make sense at all that I'm blessed with good.

So I ask again, Why? Is it to teach me, "There are more important things in life than work" lesson?

When I was in Florida teaching at a conference for work...I got a call that the ultrasound docs wanted us to come in to discuss our yet-to-be-born 4th child. They saw something...a cyst, a something...and wanted a closer look. Oh, and they said that this raises the chances of a chromosomal defect (Downs Syndrome). After more tests, and knowing that regardless of the results we'd love him, we waited the last few months...and were introduced to a perfectly healthy, happy boy.

And now with my oldest, who was in the deep of Canada a few weeks before his appendix attack. That could have been very bad. But it wasn't. It was very good.

Why do we always have happy hospital visits?

And...

...and what happens when a visit goes bad? 

...because at some point it will.

Is that the end of any residual of my happy persona? Am I strong enough to get through a bad visit?

I've heard all the sermons on "Why does God let bad things happen to me", but to be honest, they make it sound like I should look forward to bad things...that I should be more worried if nothing bad ever happens to me. Is God handling me with kid-gloves? Is my faith so fragile that Jesus doesn't dare allow a very bad? If so, I should write a book about it: "Fragile-ize Your Faith! The secret guide to long-lasting health of your loved ones".

Is it just dumb luck? That doesn't sound too Jesus-ly.

I don't really have a good answer. Just lots of questions. 

Why?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. Throughout this writing, I've been tempted to knock on wood...or laminate...or any striped material. I guess that illustrates my see-through faith? I get this superstitious feeling that by even bringing this topic up, I risk backlash. Is that messed up or what?

The Hinter500 Raceway Championships

My youngest gets a lot of leftovers: Clothes, toys, and too often...my leftover time. I feel bad about that so I try to specifically focus on him as much as I can.

Last month, when the girls were building a toy house on their own (very cool and another story involving wood they found, grownup tools, and custom paint), he asked if he could build a race-car track.

I instantly thought “hot-wheel” track. Honestly, I hate those little hot-wheel racecar tracks. They're tiny, warped, and rarely perform as promised. However, my youngest has an amazing mind, and was thinking FAR outside the box my mind was bouncing around in.

He took my hand and headed towards the outbuilding.

"That's what I want to build my racetrack out of. Can we cut it up?", as he pointed to an old piece of siding.

"No". I said immediately. You see, that's the default answer I give him...and it ticks me off every time I say it. This little man has a brain far superior to mine and I am constantly standing in his way to reaching his full potential.

Sidenote: I'm not talking all cute when I say his brain is smart. It's pure fact. It’s wicked smart. I've tried to put it in a way he'd understand: His brain learns at twice the speed of normal brains. It needs to be fed with much more brain food than our average brains. Part of the reason he gets into so much trouble is simply his brain trying to be fed...I can't wait to see what he does in his life!

But that day something in me snapped free...and I was able to break away from my "I'm-busy-and-it-sounds-like-a-lot-of-work-and-I'm-not-even-sure-if-it's-possible" box.

I quickly said, "But, we can use the whole thing as a track".

His eyes lit up.

We brought the siding to a tree limb, balanced it so the track would curve from the limb down to the grass.

He let the car go.

In 0.632 seconds the race was done. Not very satisfying.

Then, from what I can only describe as a son-to-dad mind-meld, I thought...why don't we just make the track longer?

And that's what we did. I climbed to the outbuilding rafters, found a bunch of our old siding, and got about 6 additional pieces down.

His brain was very pleased with me.

We discovered the grooves in the siding made perfect race-car tracks. The grooves even made it easy to connect one piece of track (er, siding) to the next.

Not only did we make the track well over 150 feet long, we added a starting gate that accelerated the cars, and a end-of-race jump to put an exclamation point on the finish line.

Now sit back and enjoy some brief highlights of the first annual Hinter500 International Raceway Championships!

Mr. Happy Goes To The Hospital

Once upon a time there lived a young man. To his friends and family he was known as Mr. Happy.

Say hello, Mr. Happy!

One day, Mr. Happy was not so happy. His belly was sad, and that made Mr. Happy sad.

Well...sort of. You see, even when Mr. Happy's belly was sad, and he was sitting in Urology with an IV stuck in his arm from his blood work and CT scan to find out why his belly was sad, Mr. Happy was, well, Happy.

To Mr. Happy, there was nothing happier than an exciting adventure filled with new experiences...like nearly being swallowed by a large transformer and narrowly escaping! (at least that's what the CT scan was to the imagination of Mr. Happy)

The diagnosis? Mr. Happy's appendix was very, very sad. So sad that Li'l Appendix wanted to move away. Li'l Appendix had heard stories of a magical place where others like him could gather and have fun, and Li'l Appendix wanted that kind of experience.

However, Li'l Appendix was very attached to Mr. Happy. Li'l Appendix needed to stage a grand escape with a little help from Mr. Scalpel. But how to get Mr. Scalpel's attention? In the only way he knew how, by performing the "Grinch-heart"...growing 3x its normal size.

...and it worked!!!

Mr. Happy was quickly admitted and scheduled for a same-day surgery.

Even in the hospital bed, Mr. Happy was happy.

Mr. Happy was happy about the cozy electric bed, the warm blankets, the personal TV (complete with remote control that had a built-in speaker), and most of all, room service. He was very happy about being able to order anything he wanted.

Soon enough, the nurses and doctors were ready. It was time for Mr. Happy's surgery...and time for Li'l Appendix to stage his grand escape!

Wave goodbye, Mr. Happy!

Good job.

Mr. Happy had fun rolling down the hallway! Later, Mr. Happy would tell of how the nurses talked about how the carpet near the surgical rooms made it hard to roll the beds. That made Mr. Happy smile.

It should be noted, dear reader, that just before surgery, Mr. Happy was given some happy drugs to make anyone feel happy. Now, because Mr. Happy was normally happy, the happy drugs made Mr. Happy very, very, VERY happy.

Mr. Happy must be reminded in the future that only in very special cases are happy drugs acceptable.

After one hour, Mr. Happy was back.

Success!!

Mr. Happy's belly felt happy again. AND, Li'l Appendix was free!

Here is Li'l Appendix rejoicing:

Mr. Happy spent the night with personal assistants, room service, and an automatic foot massager that pulsed happiness all night.

Mr. Happy was very happy.

The next day it was time to leave. Mr. Happy dressed, was rolled down the hallway like royalty, and awaited his adventure beyond the elevator.

Whatever awaited beyond the elevator, Mr. Happy could be sure that it would be filled with big doses of love, laughter, and, of course...happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What's that, you ask? Whatever happened to Li'l Appendix?

He did escape! He hitched a ride in the back of a pick-up and traveled all the way south of the border. Once there, he met up with Li'l Ms. Tonselita, and enjoyed a beach party with others like them:

Together they lived the rest of their days enjoying a grand adventure beach-combing, dancing the salsa, queso diving, and sharing happiness with their friends.

 

THE END

Omni-Tasking: An Amazing Experiment

So...

I'm sitting down to watch the season finale of Glee with my wife...beautiful thing...Netflix ;-). I had timed it just right...kids were asleep, wife was on the couch, and my very yummy evening dessert was freshly dished (heated home-made berry crisp bar with some really great french vanilla ice cream).

But it wasn't just the 'together time' with the wife, the dessert, and Glee. I had my iPhone next to me, and even my laptop. I WAS SET! I clicked play, and my multi-sensory, multi-tasking late night experience started perfectly as planned.

And then the wife got up. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!?! I shout with my eyes (I'm good at that...especially when she's walking away from me). She just hears the clink of the spoon and the pause of the show.

Dang it! I was so frustrated!

The experience instantly changed from a synchronized multi-tastic media blitz, to a time-wasting "watch the dessert melt while waiting for the missus" disaster. 

I stared at my dessert in despair. 

It started melting. Sadness.

I stared closer...

...it continued to melt...Amazing! I had never noticed it before:

The top of the ice-cream was changing in real-time from a jagged mountain-scape into a smooth, soft pillowy cloud-scape. The berry crisp was causing the ice-cream bottom to melt faster and created tiny fjords ... ending in a micro sea of sweet deliciousness. The first spoonful was exhilarating! The textures I saw translated into a complex symphony playing across my tongue...complete with instruments of cold, warm, smooth, hard, sweet, tart...all within the first taste. The remaining bites were just as exhilarating...but different. As the melting continued, the texture changed, blending of sweet and tart increased, and each spoonful turned into a seamless tastexture that no amount of preparation could have produced.

I began to feel grateful for what I now refer to as wifus-interruptus. All I saw, felt, tasted, heard, smelled, savored...was all because I focused 100% on this one singular event. A multi-tasked version would have resulted in the dessert disappearing without barely tasting it, while at the same time a less enjoyable show with all the interruptions of glancing down at the dessert! 

Then a sudden realization shook my core beliefs: Could my constant push to increase efficiency, experience, exposure, and excellence through multi-tasking actually be decreasing those very goals?

What if, instead, I focused 100% on one single thing at a time? 

What if I took the time to dedicate all senses, all brain power, every curious and analytical fibre to experience everything that surrounds me like I just did eating that dessert?

What else would I notice that usually zips by without a neuron of recognition? 

What delightful details evaporate before I can partake in their beauty?

What insight, skill, or invention escapes me because I constantly swap to the next of 18 things I'm trying to accomplish all at once?

I started to focus 100% on other things...

Did you know that the froth on a newly shaken glass of iced coffee bubbles like it's alive...only to settle into a delicate blanket of protection over the liquid...preserving it for the perfect first taste?

Did you know a glass filled with iced coffee contains 1000 micro waterfalls? At least that's what it looks like when the glass spontaneously starts sweating in the 90-degree summer air.

It was like I was given a sixth sense...focus. I wondered: Is omni-tasking the key to unlocking a deeper, fuller, more satisfying experience? In everything?

I continued...

How about the pond and crick burbling in our walkout? It's usually a background artifact filling the silent gaps between task switching. What if it was the foreground? The primary focal point? What would I absorb? 

Did you know a chickadee stares at the water like it was the first time he'd seen such wonderful thing? Every time! "WOW! Look at that amazing, thirst-quenching river of life!"...he looks around...not frantic...looking for a friend? Lonely...he looks back: "WOW! Look at that amazing..."

Did you know that a yellow finch seems so afraid at being eaten that every time he takes a drink he quick looks all around assuming it's his last?

It was like I discovered a super-human power...

Did you know that 100% focus on your oldest son at the end of the day enables him to talk in a continual stream of consciousness? That through that kind of focus you can ask deeper questions, absorb his passions, likes, dislikes, and in the end show your love for him by just listening, reacting, and laughing?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now I'm wondering: Could omni-tasking help in other areas?

What if I focused 100% on my girls gymnastics training? Could we have deeper discussions on what the ropes feel like as they climb, arms only, in a pike position? Could they convey the feel of chalk on their hands as they spin the bars? What do they see as they flip across the floor?

What if I focused 100%, even for 10 minutes, on reading the Bible? Not just read, but completely absorb? What would I discover? What would surprise me?

What if I listened to my youngest? 100% focus. What would I learn from his crazy-smart brain? What insight would a 7 year old not-yet-jaded-by-assumptions-and-rules child have on a 42 year old too-distracted-by-everything-all-at-once-to-appreciate-much-of-anything brain?

What if I scheduled dedicated time throughout the day for working on one work activity at a time? Would I marvel at what I accomplished? Would I find greater insight? Solve harder problems? Provide better leadership? 

What if I omni-tasked while writing music? What hidden gem would I discover? What deeper emotion could I share? What funnier lyric could I write?

Would I discover that through the self-driven pressure to multi-task I'm cheating myself...and everyone around me...from a deeper, better, happier, appreciative, wonder-filled, higher skilled, more inventive, kinder, better playing, love-giving, attentive, listening man?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Omni-tasking. I might just have to spend 30 days experimenting...

Anyone want to join me?

Technology That Matters - #0001

My first experience with Technology That Matters…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was growing up, technology never really impressed me.

Walkman? I did appreciate portable music, but it wasn't a wondrous, amazing, "magical" experience. Mix tapes were a chore, pencils had to be angled ‘just right’ to wind them after tapes got eaten, and lyrics were sung at 1/2 speed as the batteries slowly died skiing down the diamond slopes (I know. Weird kid: Side A: Shooting Star. Side B: The Great White North, “Take Off”…Bob and Doug McKenzie! "Black Hole, eh?").

Computer? My dad’s PC did help me organize my ever-growing stamp and coin collection when I was 10. But hours vaporized making the computer do anything productive for me (although I did achieve a Zen-like relationship to a DOS-based database that cross-referenced 1,539 stamps from dozens of countries!)

MIDI? Even as I got into composing and recording, MIDI mapping, analog synth programming, and drum machine 'coding' took hours to make it work before creativity could flow. Once I did that, it did provide hours of awesomeness...but it didn't 'just work'. (Although, to be fair, the knowledge gained was pure gold in future Up With People tours)

None of the technology I encountered impressed me…

...Until that Blessed Day...

I remember it clearly. The sun was just a bit more sunnier, the roads were just a bit more road-trippy, and the angels were guest BGV's to my amazing car-karaoke vocal rendition of "Beautiful Girls".

I pulled into KwikTrip in my Dodge Daytona (T-Tops of course) to get my normal processed coffee, when in the distance I heard some excited whispering...

...then a bold statement:

"GOD BLESS TECHNOLOGY"

What could be the cause of such a grand statement? Could it be the iPhone? No, that wouldn't be invented for several years. The self-tuning guitar? No, Gibson will try but it’ll be put on a lame ax.

I walked towards the small crowd and stared in awe at the object of awesome – shimmering like a 24th century replicator:

The KwikTrip Smoothie Machine.

I know. I know. You had the same experience. We might as well refer to our lives as BESM and AESM (Before Encountering Smoothie Machine, After Encountering Smoothie Machine).

Let me take you to the moment of my conversion:

1) Choose
Reflecting Biblical-based free-choice doctrine, I can freely choose flavor and style: frozen cappuccino flavors, smoothie flavors, or milkshake flavors. My excitement grows...

2) Open
Uh-oh. Doubt sets in as I open the lid. Surely this bucket of hard-as-ice-frozen-potential isn't going to turn into anything but freezer-burn-sadness. I push through on the promise of what is foretold...

3) Blend
I put the bucket into the machine, and quickly discover a secret second choice: Consistency. Stunning. How can a mere machine automate how thick or smooth the frozen-yet-liquid perfection gets?

I push "Smooth": The magic machine raises the bucket and starts. I will someday learn more about the magical technology that at once heats, mixes, cools, and delivers the finished smoothie. For now I will assume it involves galloping hamsters, baby dragon’s breath, and diamond dust.

Then the machine stops.

I bathe in the glory of a perfect smoothie that was moments before a frozen cylinder in the freezer.

Not only is the consistency perfect, the flavor is exquisite. AND, there is no freezer burn (job well done, baby dragons!).

Yummy…

…and not a This-Is-Pretty-Good-I-Should-Maybe-Get-Another-Someday kind of YUMMY, but a This-Is-So-Good-I-Sure-Hope-The-Government-Doesn't-Force-Me-To-Choose-Between-This-Smoothie-And-My-Kids-Because-I’d-Sure-Miss-Them kind of YUMMY!

I leave a changed man. Soon after I, too, start inventing.

I only hope that one day I will give back to mankind a fraction of what mankind has given to me that day..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, have you encountered a technology that makes you stop in your tracks?

A Really Good Day: PRS Experience - September 22, 2008

"Let's give away a guitar!", said Paul (owner/founder of Paul Reed Smith guitars)

Thus began the end of a really good day.

It actually started the day before where I had finished giving a rousing presentation and demo at the IBM Future Interfaces Conference at MIT in Cambridge, MA. Which, by the way, had the best science lab I’ve ever seen:

I would tell you all about my presentation, but then I'd have to answer to Watson, and he's really not happy with me after I made fun of him.  But I can tell you that I was at an emotional high...at least at that time I thought it was my emotional high for the weekend.

Boy, was I wrong.  :-)

The morning after my Future Interfaces success, I drove down from Boston to Stevensville Maryland (just next to Baltimore). Amazing drive! I fully under-appreciated how accessible the east coast is. Oh, and I had some quality time with my iPod :-)

My destination? The PRS Experience. Paul Reed Smith, founder of PRS Guitars, loves his customers and dealers so he puts on an "open house" with players (like me), artists (like Mark Tremonti, Johnny Hiland, and David Grissom:

I knew this was going to be a good day...

I knew my current emotional high would be carried through by what I was about to experience...

I didn't know just how good it would be...

I wake up and walk out of the hotel to wait for the PRS shuttle. 10 PRS fans await with me...the nicest group you could ever meet. Some have their own guitars to have artists and PRSh (Paul Reed Smith himself) sign. Some have shirts. All have a grateful attitude that this 2 day open house is free.

Amazingly, I meet a friend. I don't have good friends anywhere. I met one here. John. Older guy who's wife died and has always wanted to own a PRS, and who's daughter urged him to come to the PRS Experience. We form a bond that I'll never forget.

I get off the bus, and receive a crazy-cool packet of PRS stuff: hat, shirt, stickers, keychain. I walk up to a tent and see an intimate session where Johnny Hiland is talking about his guitar...and playing some of the most amazing guitar I've ever seen (Watch this)

I walk to the 'spin and win' wheel...where Mark Tremonti walks by...I shake his hand and personally thank him for redefining hard rock for me...from an angry, tense experience...into a beautiful soundscape of hope, melodic lyrics, and rockin guitar you could sing to.

Oh, and I spun and got some cool PRS guitar picks, and unfortunately get a lousy raffle ticket.

I spend the rest of the day amazed at how guitars are made, played, and got an education I’ll never forget.

Then the evening approaches.

The main show consists of stunning music. All 1400 of us are at the same time both inspired to practice more, and depressed at how we'll never be that good that we think we may never want to play again.

My emotional high has not wavered...it has been an outstanding day.

...It is about to change.

PRSh walks on stage...hushes the crowd. "This is the part of the the show that I am most excited about", he says with a big smile.

"Let's give away a guitar!", he shouts. 

We shout in agreement! Most of us are excited for some lucky fan...because we know we never win anything.

...the mood of the night is the closest to Heaven I've been in...we're all rooting for each other...sharing the love of a common instrument...and talking about how grateful we are all to be there.

His assistant walks out with a big, black case.

Paul opens it up, and pulls out a real beauty. "This is our new Starla. Fresh from the factory". Now, we're talking really fresh...the factory is only 100 feet away. Bigsby tremolo...a rare thing on PRS guitars, Cherry red, and custom pickups that sound amazing.

"Someone here will win this guitar months before it even goes on sale. You'll be the first in the world to own one". We all look around for some other that will jump at their name.

He raises a bowl 1/2 full of raffle tickets....

...my mind snaps to attention...the raffle tickets couldn't be purchased...only won from that 'spin and win' wheel...the same raffle ticket I was disappointed in winning...mind spinning...spinning...

He pulls out a single ticket.

"Hmm", he mutters to his assistant...asking how to pronounce the name? Sweet! My name is hard to pronounce...

"OK! We have a winner..."

...spinning...spinning...

"Wow, all the way from..."

At this point my mind... my heart...stomach...eyes, my whole being is spinning...

"...Minnesota"

AAAAH! I can't get excited! CALM DOWN! YOU NEVER WIN UNLESS IT'S CRAPPY TRADE SHOW STUFF!

...but how many people traveled from Minnesota!?!

"The winner is... Gre..."

I don't fully recall when exactly I jumped up and shouted "YEAH!!!"...if I waited until my full name was said, but I truly only remember my first name announced...and the slow-motion jump that would have been perfect for an energy drink ad.

My new friend John was so happy for me.

Turns out, everyone was so happy for me! Again...like what I imagine Heaven being like. I walk towards the stage...I'm getting cheers, back slaps, hand shakes...the fellow PRS fans are truly happy. Not even teasing "in fun".

I get on stage and shake Paul's hand. He hands me the guitar. He asks, "You dig Bigsby!?!"

I say, "Yeah, I dig Bigsby!"

"What? You hate Bigsby!?" PRSh shouts...I hope he's joking...

"NO, I LOVE BIGSBY!". I shout back over the laughing crowd…He winks.

He puts the guitar in the case, hands me the case, and asks for another round of applause.

Now, in my dreams I would have either bowed, or pulled the guitar out and started to play "Garden of Eden" by John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band (Seriously. Listen to it. It rocks!) to the cheer of the crowd. Instead I just walk off stage with Paul's assistant...

...a huge smile...

...and my new guitar.

Later, I ask her how I should bring this on the plane for my trip home. She says, "Oh, heavens. Let us ship it using our secure shipping boxes". So nice.

I arrive home, await for my guitar (much like Doc Brown waiting for Marty McFly at the end of Back to the Future), and play it the next Sunday. The sound is truly amazing. Rich, thick, with what I can only describe as "Ballsy". It shimmers with the tremolo, and it tunes down to dropped-D wonderfully.

It is now my favorite guitar for hard rock songs.

~~~~~~

Someday I'll be asked what the best day of my life was...I'll probably answer with the words 'wedding' or 'birth of a child', but somewhere deep in my mind...I may just be thinking of this day.