The Burt Factor

It's is important to recognize and acknowledge the people who, in their own unique way, enrich our lives by sharing knowledge, gifts and talents. I cannot deny that I am my father's daughter, to the letter. The older I get, the more I become like him. I just hope my hairstyle doesn't follow suit.....heeheehee. (he's bald) But my dad is the best and most unique dad ever. In the past several years, I have come to think of my dad more as a friend, and he has become a welcomed addition to my very short and distinquished list.
One of the earliest memories I have of daddy is his Gibson flat top. That's an acoustic guitar for those who are wondering. He has played longer than I have been alive, and no one plays like him. I can remember many nights, sitting on the couch with mom, TV off, listening to dad strum that beautiful old guitar. He could make it sing...and he would sing, too. Dad, despite his sometimes gruff appearance, has a beautiful, clear, soft singing voice. We would sit for hours and enjoy his renditions of Marty Robbins songs and many others. We, as kids, were so blessed to have musical parents. Mom could play the keys off a piano, and we learned to sing standing around that old green upright. But there was something different about that guitar...the sound my dad evoked from it has never been duplicated by anyone else to this day. I have heard others play it, including my virtuoso brother Bob, my dad's namesake.
But it never sounds so sweet as when RCB commands it's six simple strings...thank you daddy, for your gift of music. It is a unique priviledge to be associated with such gifted family, and I will never take it for granted. Thank you, too, for your words of wisdom and encouragement...because of you, I'm gonna 'keep on pullin'.
The pictures below are of a recent pickin' we had at dads. It is a regular occurance when BB comes home. I'm ready for another jam, so BB come home soon!