Kristin Brecoe

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPz9lL0y8sE&feature=related
AMAZING. You need to check him out.
A Favorite Poem
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mn1qxrM1XY0&feature=related
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"your words remain embedded deep within my soul,
your smile, your eyes still shine upon my heart,
but it's those tiniest quirks I have begun to forget,
and that is where I am at a loss and miss you so."

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You know, it snowed nine-inches the night my mom gave birth to me. That night, my mother, father, and brother drove insanely of to some hospital that currently escapes my mind. A phenomenon curtained them. To them, however, the snow was a roadblock; a freezing cold roadblock. My dad drove as fast as he could. About a mile from the hospital, blue and red lights flashed behind a sheet of white. My brother twisted and turned in his car seat to wave to the pretty lights. Excitedly he tried escaping from his seatbelt. From the rear view mirror, my dad spotted the squirming one-year-old. He shouted to his beloved and crazy son to sit his little behind down and behave. Peter, innocent as ever, did what he was told. Just as my brother calmed down, a policeman strolled up to my father's window. Rolling down his window, my dad explained in a rush what the hurry was, as the policeman scribbled out a ticket. (My mom recalls this little scene and says he spoke so incoherently.) Mother, in the midst of Father's babbling, groaned and shouted for the driver to Pedal it! Noticing the impatient and pregnant woman, the policeman wadded the ticket into a ball, and shoved it into his pocket. He then led my family on a mad rush to the hospital. That night at exactly 11:59 PM, I, Kristin Brecoe, broke into my first cry.
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