I want to be a grandfather who tells stories to his grandkids one day. Fantastic stories. Stories about how I fought off legions of rogue ninjas who swarmed the family mansion with just a rusty butter knife.

Or maybe something less violent. Like, hmm. Like how there was a roaring inferno in a school and I rushed in to save a group of trapped quadriplegic kindergarteners on the fifth floor.

Okay, I admit it: I have Hero syndrome. So maybe I should make the stories slightly more believable. Something my grandkids would believe I really did.

Then again, is fighting off killer ninjas and rescuing kindergarteners really that unbelievable?

Okay, dumb question.

The point is: I like weaving together and telling stories. Sometimes these stories are part fantasy and part reality. Taking a little creative license always helps to spice up a story. My life isn't as exciting as a rock climber or international super agent, so I kind of have to.

They say that being able to look at an everyday situation and reframe it into a story is a bit of an art. It takes an observant eye and always-on memory.

For me, I have a fundamental belief that life is all a matter of perspective. We all look at life through different lenses. If your lens is blue, life for you is blue. If your lens is full of joy and energy, life for you is mostly full of joy and energy.

One of the lenses I often like to use is the Storyteller Lens. Every experience I go through has the ability to turn into a full-fledged story. Every experience, however, is not story-worthy. This lens allows me to discern which experiences will make a good story, and which won't.

Or, at least, that's what I hope it can do. My lens isn't always accurate. And that's what these Rambles are for. They're storytelling practice. Within this large pile of coals, hopefully I'll create a few gems that I'll carry with me forever.

Which means that maybe I should write more stories about killer ninjas and raging infernos. Otherwise, all I'll have for my grandkids are a bunch of stories about growing old and planning scavenger hunts.

. . .

What kind of grandparent do you want to be?