Voices (the post I forgot)

In our line of work, so much depends on our voices.  Sure, we need guitars, sound equipment, a truck to haul it with, understanding and supportive families, but the whole thing hinges on something as unique as a thumbprint.  It's the Voice.  Tonight I sat at the horse pulls at the fair and listened to the voice over the loud speaker that finally gave me that feeling I've been missing for years.  In our own running from job to job, washing horses and visiting with friends, I'd lost that "IT'S THE FAIR!" feeling over the years.  I figured it had just faded with time, that I'd forgotten how to tap into the magic . . . . but tonight, it hit me as a sound wave across the arena and made tears spring up in my eyes.  It was my Daddy's voice.  As unique as his thumb print, a part of my own DNA.  To me, the feeling of the fair rides along on the sound wave of my Dad's voice announcing rodeos, and horse pulls and dog shows and auctions.  So, I just sat and soaked it in.  The setting sun, the smell of horses and burgers and cigarettes and the sound of my Daddy's voice and it all finally felt right. 

My Dad and My Boy