Safe Haven

You're 64 today. I'll bet you thought those kind of ages were never reached, when you were a kid! Well, anyway. I am your proud and thankful oldest son. To be honest, some things we'd have been better not living through, or so it seems. Then again, who are we, to argue with God? I'm thankful for little things from you. I love books and words because of you. I pay attention--to a healthy extent--to what's going on in the world because of you. I'm sensitive and funny because of you. I could be wrong, of course, but I think that was you. You sacrificed all this time and energy so that we could have every advantage. You work as hard as anyone I have ever seen. And the thing I love most that you taught us is that enjoying life is about recognizing the moment, and being thankful. Honestly, this will sound a little weird, but I love that we are friends. I'll always be your son, but you also trust me with things that are important to you. That makes a son who ...

Apparently, my destiny in free moments is to scour among the stones with our friends at YouTube, listening to "Wait For Me" by Daryl Hall & John Oates in as many different versions as possible. Old Daryl, Young Daryl, Daryl With The Band, Just Daryl, '70s Daryl, Today Daryl, etc. It's probably my Official Favorite Song now. I sing it all the time. I guess there are worse obsessions. Dare I say, it means something to me now. I'm going to record this song, mark my words. Even if it's just friends goofing off, it's going to happen at some point. Provided, of course, the Lord doesn't call me home a bit early. "I'm not even a good singer!" I thought. And then I realize--having been a performer of a different kind many times--that talent is only part of the equation. Does the audience believe me? That's what matters the most. Daryl and John are the kind of guys that don't just write a song for the sport of it. There's some...

I didn't expect to be utterly taken apart. Certainly not by one sentence. And maybe I expected fireworks from arguably America's best living theologian, who also has a penchant for public vulgarity. Yet I didn't think the fireworks would go off inside me. Let me pause the story to tell you another one. One day, I went to a trivia night to benefit L'Arche, a Catholic community made up of "normals" and those with intellectual disabilities. Most often, it's Down Syndrome. Mr. Vanier (founder of L'Arche)--in plain, undramatic terms--wanted us all to see Jesus in each other, even if some of us are pushed to the margins. And so it goes. Anyway, I had a few odd interactions on the way into the trivia, and my friend says, "Sorry some folks treat you like you live at L'Arche." Now, without doubt, I am a proud man. I'm proud of my mind, my words, my degrees. But in a sudden attack of good sense, I said, "Who am I to think I'm bette...

I would be an executive, which means I would attempt to let the legislature be the legislature. You're not allowed to do this today. You're supposed to have legislative priorities and victories. When did this happen? I generally would want to administrate well, to keep my head down, and avoid embarrassing the people of my state. On the other hand, if you give me the power of commutation and clemency, I'll use it, and boldly. I take very seriously the idea that the last person who can show mercy in light of justice would be me. If I don't have a Board of Clemency and Pardons on board with my vision, I'll replace every single person until I do. I generally have a socially conservative vision, which doesn't mean I can't tolerate anything else, but it means that we don't have to make anything and everything normative. We don't change everything we've known, just to make some small group of people happy. Depending upon what it is, it might be ba...