“My dad started whistling. That was the first bad sign,” Cordelia Zars remembers. “Then walking around the cabin and straightening things. The second. When he tromped up the ladder, rummaged around in the loft, and hollered down at me, ‘Oh say, Cord…’? I knew it was over. Some ridiculous idea had sprouted in his brain; negotiation was futile, all hope of rationality lost.”
In this particular instance, the idea involved strapping on cross country skis and dragging a ninety pound keyboard ten miles through the snow on a nine degree Colorado evening.
Now, Cordelia reflects on how much these hair-brained excursions–postholes, shivers, sweat, tears and all–shaped the people her and her siblings became, and left them with a deep sense for what they’re capable of.
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Tracks provided by Free Music Archive and with permission from the artists.