Spence men

I took the post below and snatched it from my old haunts.

I remember the first time I heard “Song for My Father” by Horace Silver. I couldn’t have been more than five years old. My grandfather played it, and other old school classics, religiously. We never got a chance to talk about its meaning to him. Could’ve just been another song. But today reminds me how important fathers are. Not in crass Singltetonian sociological sense. I know plenty of men who grew to be fine men and fine fathers without having fathers around themselves. But in the sense of…well, again, pictures say it best. Dad, Mr. Mason, Bill, Chris, Steve, Mark, Marlin, Doom, Joseph, Sam, Darius, Stan, Jeff, Ernie, Chuck, Delbert, Dan, Orrin, Louis, Robert, Ben, Kurmell, LaRoi, Rob G., Caurn, Will, Reg, Frank, RayShawn, Curt, Bird, Mike O., Todd, Tyron, Sel, Rudy, Rico, J Marks, Big Nasty, Fly, Perk, Drew, Dokes, Brett Dancer, Larry, Mark Douglas, Harwood, Mike Minta, Ralph, Bowen, Craig, Ed, M.A.N., Ern, and those I missed, Happy belated Father’s Day.