#ref4

The year is 1967. I was just a young boy trying to play on my poorly constructed tree swing when suddenly, my father came outside. "That swing's getting bad for the tree." He yelled across our yard. "Tree's dying because of it." I was part of the problem. I knew the tree was being killed, but damn it, I was not giving up my poorly constructed swing. I went on that swing every day. It was part of my routine. Just because the tree would die didn't mean I'd stop. I'm like that in many parts of life