While sitting at the kitchen table and playing Hi Ho Cherry-O with a skinny 5 year old in a Spider Man outfit, I suddenly became aware that this simple little game was trying to tell me something:

The Kids win. And they should. They have it right.

I’m not an old man, really. I’m in reasonably good health. Mentally, I’m on the downslope, and that’s been happening for years. But - I’ve realized that the spinner always lands on the bad spaces. The bird, the dog, the dread spilled bucket.

9 cherries in my bucket? I spin to the spilled bucket space and they all go back on the tree.

And my son laughs. That’s the good part. I have a son who laughs at my cherries spilling out all over the place.

Much the same in life. My sons laughs. My daughter gives me hugs and kisses and thinks the world is a wonderful little place. Of course, she also thinks the world is just our little log cabin and her dollies and teddy bears and books and blankets. I wish her world would always be so small. I wish all our worlds were.

She doesn’t notice that my cherries are all over the place. They don’t see when things go bad and the phone only carries bad news. When the mailbox is an enemy. When you land on the bird and he carries away your only cherry. When the dog rips you off.

For them, they think life is landing on the good spaces and their bucket is always full.

My spirit is buoyed by their spirits. My bucket is filled by their buckets being filled.

So - to all the kids: May your bucket be full. May you have tasty treats to eat. May you laugh and be silly and ramble on and on and on. Keep the dog and the bird away from your life for as long as you can. And never let the world make you land on the tipped over bucket.

Pasty-faced Irishmen should not wander about in the sun. Our place is in the cave, slaving away with pixels and the terribly important logo design. Our only sunshine should be the stuff that filters in through the little cracks between the blinds.

But, Brewgrass was great fun. Laughs and ideas, affirmations and a sense of being on the brink of a world-changing. Tasers for the poor and beer for the thirsty.

As I was sitting here rubbing aloe on my lobsterized forehead (or fivehead in my case) I begain to think. I don’t generally wax lovely, but I gotta say - and you know who you are - I could not think of a better group of sailors to be on this boat with. We’ve got the captain, we’ve got the first mate, the navigator and the ship’s glorious missus. I’d be happy to just swab the poop deck.

But, we’re at sea and we’re reaching for our promise…

LAND HO!!!

(For those of you that get it - thanks. I love you all. For those of you scratching your head - sorry for having done a little bit of personal inventory here on FreakinAsheville. Tomorrow, the usually bitter Jimdiggity will return. Fear not.)