My father’s father kept it in his breast pocket and believed it brought him luck. Dad kept it dusty and believed that gave him strength. “Good luck for bad behavior,” is how he dismissed the heirloom flask. But on one clear day of my youth, grandpa gave me a different perspective: a long, rambling story about a dog, twins named Daisy and Maria, a place called The Fourdice Motel, and the responsibility of being a man. Someday maybe I’ll have a son, and when he’s ready, I’ll pull out the spirit of grandpa and pass on the lessons I’ve learned. Except for the part about the twins.

Sauza
Live a legend.