how often do you pick up a yo-yo (or anything, really) and just feel struck by an outpouring of tremendous gratitude? not for "possessing" the thing, itself, but for sharing space with it for awhile; simply getting to experience it... how often does a yo-yo make you feel truly fortunate to be -even obliquely- associated with the brilliant craftsman who imagined it; breathed life into it; who took a piece of himself and his world and molded it into a plaything? ... how often do you see a yo-yo that somehow, through its aesthetic or play... just seems to make the world a little better, a little brighter? ... how often do you get to hold a yo-yo and think inwardly, "art", or allow that unspoken understanding to inform the WAY you hold it? ... how often do you pick up a yo-yo that inspires, that DARES you to try to play at a level "worthy" of it?
... how often do you, a jaded curmudgeon who looks ever backward, perceiving a world full of forgotten dignity and attention to detail, get to touch a yo-yo and be warmed by the embers of hope and excitement for the future, and immense pride in being able to witness the present?
in every sense: brilliant.
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