It's In Our Blood
Let me tell you a story,
I grew up in East Tennessee and my grandparents had a farm in Central Tennessee. Although it felt like it was 62M acres, it wasn’t, but had plenty of places to walk, get bit by mosquitoes and find trees to be shaded by. For several years my family would have a summer family reunion on the farm. For the most part I don’t remember enjoying these reunions. I was one of the youngest and thus felt afraid for my life during most of the things my much older cousins would want us to do. For example, I once got stranded in the middle of a river because my cousins tipped over the canoe we were in and it got stuck in the rapids. Yeah, no joke. As an aside, knowing what I know now about canoes, how the heck they managed to tip it over and crush it between two rocks is beyond me.
There was also a time we decided to float down the same river and my lounger went flat. I can’t really remember how I got down the river, but I was sure I was going to have a leach where leached shouldn’t be - just like that kid in Goonies. Luckily, no leach. Just a nightmare of one for several months after.
Back to my point… I struggled with these reunions, but I do remember one things very, very fondly. Every morning the family would eat breakfast on the floor of my grandmother’s kitchen. It was a huge, carpeted, galley kitchen that 20+ people could sit along. We would sit on the floor for the first few hours of the morning telling stories. I loved it. Not only did I get to hear about whatever tale my grandparents would share, but I also got to hear from my aunts and uncles. Too much fun!
Fast forward 30 years later and I am convinced that the enjoyment from listening to stories is in our blood. Maybe it comes from our early ancestors telling stories in their cave about the saber tooth tiger that were attacked by that day. Or maybe it is from the many years of a radio-only world when everyone would gather around a singular voice. It was likely perpetuated in my youth by prime-time television and no smartphones.
Regardless, my belief is that it is in our blood and now we always find stories in the best ways possible. Through pictures on Instagram, funny videos on FaceBook, simple Tweets and Netflix binges. The call for story is strong as ever and I hope that the things we produce are so good that they still make it to the floor of grandma’s kitchen, just this time through the speakers and screens of really great phones. Laughing and crying together always creates an undeniable bond.
Here is to great stories,