The Tow-Truck Driver & the Teacher

News broke yesterday out of North Carolina – no, not about who has to use which bathroom – but about a tow-truck driver who, upon learning his intended customer was a Bernie Sanders supporter, declined to lend his services.  Why a Trump-backing tow truck driver says he refused service to a Sanders supporter.  Now, Mr. Shupe had his reasons – and from a business perspective, they make sense. He’s had bad experiences of late with “socialist-minded person(s)” not paying their bills.  As he put it, he’s been “Berned – with an ‘e’ not a ‘u.'”  But the fact remains, he left a young woman in need of assistance – which he was especially equipped to provide – on the side of the road with an inoperable vehicle. 

As soon as I saw the headline, I thought, “Oh, boy – here we go.” And right on cue – the partisans showed up brandishing either outrage or smug satisfaction, depending on their respective political camps.  I thought about diving in – particularly when I saw comments re: lawsuits being thrown out there.  No, what this guy did wasn’t illegal or actionable at law.  (I’m not going to belabor that here.)  But it was ungentlemanly and unkind.  I, like many others, was reminded of Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan, and disappointed in the way Mr. Shupe chose to respond.  Even more so when I read past the headline today to this excerpt:  

“Something came over me, I think the Lord came to me, and he just said get in the truck and leave,” Shupe told an ABC affiliate. “And when I got in my truck, you know, I was so proud, because I felt like I finally drew a line in the sand and stood up for what I believed.”

According to Fox Carolina, Shupe identified himself as a conservative Christian who supports Donald Trump. McWade, however, told The Post that she felt he didn’t “exactly exemplify his belief.”

I’m sorry – I don’t see how those two concepts reconcile.  And it saddens me that this seems to be where we are in this day and age.  

It isn’t just Mr. Shupe, though – I’ve heard and seen several people championing Mr. Shupe today, chuckling over his commentary (which, granted, was clever). In fact, I heard one gentleman proudly recount a story about how just the other day, he taught a young waitress a valuable lesson.  She apparently was sporting a Bernie sticker on her apron, and he engaged her in conversation over this, delving into her reasoning which appeared predominantly to center on the idea of “free college tuition” – an idea of understandable appeal to a 20 year old.  The man explained to her how, of course, it isn’t really “free” – it’s being paid for by the taxpayer, which means you and me and even her – just on the back end/out of her back pocket.

It sounded as though he did a nice and somewhat thorough job of explaining that almost everything has a cost and someone has to pay.  (I was with him up to that point!) But then he got to what seemed to be his punchline – she brought the bill, and to ensure she learned her “lesson,” he wrote in “$0.00” for the tip. Ha! Get it?! NOW she’ll see what “free” is!  Woot! You sure showed that young lady, Mister!  

Sadly, I have a sneaking suspicion the “lesson,” this waitress will take away from this encounter was that conservatives/Republicans are jerks – so why bother to listen to their ideas?  Maybe not. One can hope.

I’ll be honest: I’m tired. I’m tired of people being ugly to one another – in the name of politics, or religion, or just in general. I’m tired of having to explain how the actions of people who theoretically claim the same labels as I do – “conservative,” “Christian,” – don’t represent me or those ideals.  No, friends – I am most certainly not without fault. None of us are.  But we can do better than this.  We need to do better than this.  



Where Did Our Love Go?

I brought this up on “Q with a View” last night, and it stuck with me, so I thought I’d flesh it out a bit in writing.

One of the themes heading into 2015 was what a strong bench the GOP had (compared to the Democrats.)  Ultimately 17 candidates threw their hat into the race:

  • 5 former Governors
  • 4 sitting Governors
  • 4 sitting Senators
  • 1 former Senator
  • 1 World-renowned Neuro Surgeon
  • 1 Former Fortune 100 CEO
  • 1 Billionaire Businessman/Reality TV Show Star

They were geographically diverse (with solid ties to NY, FL, VA, NJ, WI, MI, AR, LA, KY, TX, CA, SC, PA & OH).  They were demographically diverse (2 Hispanic candidates, 1 African American, 1 Indian, 1 woman, and, as my co-host Jason Dibler rightly noted, age-diverse, ranging from age 44 to age 7o).

Now, personally, I’d submit that this was a decent lot.  However, ‘twould seem that familiarity breeds contempt; and if it doesn’t, preference for one often leads to it as to others. But assuming, as some contend, that this roster constitutes a sorry gaggle, I must ask: Who wouldn’t/doesn’t?  Who fits the bill in terms of not being a lousy candidate for President?



A Couple Points of Clarification


I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been faced with the realistic possibility that I won’t be able to vote for the Presidential nominee of the party I favor.  Most of us have been faced from time to time (maybe even most of the time) with the “lesser of two evils” choice.  And I suppose, in a way, planting one’s flag on #NeverTrump Island is a form of that, as well.  But it surely raises questions (and sometimes on social media – blind fury) from those who think he’s just peachy, and even from those who think he’s not, but still preferable to a Hillary Clinton (or substituted Democrat of your choice) Presidency.  So, to the extent that it matters at all, I have some answers.

1. How can you say you’ll never vote for Trump when even his primary opponents (Cruz, Kasich & Rubio) say they’ll support him if he’s the nominee?

Hey, I’ll admit it – there was a part of me last night during the debate that hoped Rubio, or at least one of the non-Trumps, would boldly declare his refusal to support Trump on principle, but I’m a fairly pragmatic person when it comes to politics. The downside to doing so likely outweighed the upside. First, as Cruz rightly pointed out, they did all sign a pledge to support the nominee, so refusal to do so would be brought up repeatedly as evidence of their willingness to go back on their word.  Second, as Rubio rightly pointed out, the Democratic alternatives really aren’t palatable.  Third, while it appears likely Trump will be the nominee, he doesn’t have it yet. Thus, agreeing to support him if he is the nominee doesn’t mean agreeing not to continue fighting tooth and nail to prevent that from happening.  So, no, I can’t find much fault with their answers.  And I was gratified that Trump’s answer was that he, too, would support the nominee, even if it isn’t him.

That doesn’t change my stance. Because my #NeverTrump stance isn’t predicated on my support for Rubio (or Cruz or Kasich.)  As I explained the other day In Defense of Marco Rubio and the #NeverTrumps, I was #NeverTrump before he even entered the race, and long before I settled on Rubio as my preference.  And that Rubio is my preference does not translate into me thinking he hung the moon or can do no wrong.  I don’t agree with everything he says and does.  He’s a political candidate and a human being. Not a deity.  Further, despite having selected Rubio as my choice, I’m #NeverTrump, not #AlwaysRubio or #OnlyRubio.  I can (and will) support any of the other remaining candidates.

That’s how I can say I’ll never vote for (or support) Trump, regardless of what Rubio or Cruz or Kasich say or ultimately do.

2.  How would you feel if someone started up a #NeverRubio movement?

Well, again, as I stated in my prior piece, I’d raise an eyebrow, shake my head, and possibly question the rationale behind it, but I wouldn’t berate them for it.  If someone feels that strongly about opposing Rubio, then no, they shouldn’t vote for him or support him.  That said, if the only motivation for doing so is to counteract the #NeverTrump movement, I’m not certain how successful it would be. First, it’s derivative. Second, it’s inaccurate unless one means that they won’t support or vote for him no matter what. Most people I’ve seen voice support for other candidates have said they could vote for Rubio in the General if it came to that. But, hey, ya gotta do what ya gotta do.

Lastly, as I tweeted out yesterday, “A criticism of your preferred candidate =/= a personal affront to you. If you take it that way, you may want to reassess perspective.” I wouldn’t be pleased with such a campaign (obviously!) but I wouldn’t take it personally. It’s not about me. I’m not Rubio, and he is not the vessel for all my hopes and dreams.

3. Are you okay with the RNC stealing the nomination away from Trump?

No. Not if it means monkeying with the rules as currently written. The odds of a brokered convention seem to be increasing. This piece and the prior ones linked therein set out the nitty gritty of how that might play out.  It’s complicated and complex, and I haven’t fully wrapped my brain around it, but if it would take a sudden rule change in order to block Trump, I’m not on board with that.  It doesn’t make much sense for me to take a (somewhat controversial) stance on principle, then turn right around and dismiss notions of proper process and fair play.  I’m not an ends-justify-the-means person. Or, at least, I strive mightily not to be.

Regardless, I came to an unfortunate realization yesterday – the damage is already done. Not that there won’t be more – I’m sure there will.  But the divide between the factions on the right has bubbled up to the surface, and I don’t believe it can be repaired in this election cycle.  Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised.  This has certainly been a season like no other.



In Defense of Marco Rubio and the #NeverTrumps

Rubio, the Conservative

One thing I’ll never be accused of lacking is stubbornness – I’m a Missouri mule through and through.  However, as I’ve grown older (and theoretically wiser), I’ve had to learn that “being right” isn’t the be all-end all of life.  Faith, family, friends – those are what matter most. And often, in order to honor those, one must learn to stand down and focus on what IS right, rather than on BEING right.

That said, I’m not one to shy away from a challenge when one is put to me – particularly in the realm of politics. So, when my friend Jamie Allman, a local radio and television host, voiced some criticism yesterday of those employing the #NeverTrump hashtag, I decided to call in to his radio show and share my thoughts in defense of the #NeverTrump sentiment.  I’ll come back to that in a bit, but in the meantime, Jamie replayed our discussion this morning and followed it with a query as to how a #NeverTrumper can claim to hold that stance based on conservative principles, yet still support Marco Rubio, whom some claim is a Liberal – or, at least, a liberal Republican.

There’s no question that as this race has developed, Rubio has merged into the “Establishment” lane, particularly as other Establishment candidates like Jeb Bush and John Kasich have failed to gain traction.  (Jeb! even moreso than Kasich.) And Rubio is possessed of several positions which would rightly land him at least partially in that camp – most notably, his role in the infamous “Gang of Eight” debacle.  However, I find it rather amusing that a guy swept into office on a Tea Party wave, who took on Charlie Crist to get there, is now to be written off as an undesirable Establishment guy.  And I find it ludicrous to characterize him as a Liberal.

Ludicrous?  That’s a strong word.  Well, here’s why I think it’s fitting:

  • Marco Rubio has a lifetime ACU (American Conservative Union) rating of 98 (out of 100).  That puts him fifth among sitting US Senators in terms of conservatism, behind only Ted Cruz, Mike Lee, Tom Coburn and Ron Johnson, and one spot ahead of Rand Paul. ACU Ratings – US Senators
  • Marco Rubio has a 100% rating from the National Right to Life Committee.  NRLC Rating – Rubio
  • Marco Rubio was rated a “Taxpayer Super Hero” by the Council for Citizens Against Government Waste. Citizens Against Government Waste Ratings
  • Marco Rubio has a 90% rating from Gun Owners of America and a B+ rating from the NRA (National Rifle Association).  A summary of Rubio’s ratings on guns can be found here: Marco Rubio’s Ratings & Endorsements (scroll down for guns).  A summary of Rubio’s positions/statements on guns can be found here: On the Issues – Rubio – Guns
  • Rubio’s ratings on a variety of topics can also be found at the two preceding links.


Hundreds of articles have been written in support of Rubio:  Here are two which specifically  make the case for him as a Conservative:

The Conservative Case for Marco Rubio

Marco Rubio is Plenty Conservative

So, no, I don’t consider it fair or accurate to characterize him as a Liberal.  In fact, his record demonstrates a strong case for why he’s one of the more conservative candidates we’ve had in recent years.  That doesn’t render him perfect – not by any stretch of the imagination.  (He’s a good deal more hawkish than this hawkish-dove; his proposed tax policy isn’t my favorite; and his immigration stance has been troubling.  However, I can live with his current stance on it. (For more on that, see the Immigration heading here: Rubio on Immigration. For what I consider a very thoughtful take on the issue, see Annie Frey’s recent piece on the topic: IMMIGRATION: CONSERVATIVES & AMNESTY.))

Once the primary was underway, I took my time committing to a candidate. I sized up their respective positions.  I took the “I Side With” Quiz (which is actually fairly thorough if you click through all of the questions) back in June and got these results:

Rubio – 82%
Santorum – 81% (which surprised me)
Cruz – 79%
Walker – 79%
Paul – 78%
Carson – 65%
Sanders – 52%
Clinton – 46%
Fiorina – 37% (another surprise for me)

But I didn’t commit at that point.  I waited and watched the primary unfold.  I watched their debate performances.  I kept an eye on the polls regarding their match-ups with Hillary Clinton (whom I considered to be the likely Democratic nominee.)  And Rubio did eventually win me over.  When asked by a friend to explain my (January) declaration of my support for him, I responded with this:

  • His policy stances match closest to mine of the current candidates
  • He’s a policy wonk
  • He has a record of conservative accomplishments in Florida (including limiting the impact of the Kelo decision)
  • He took on (and beat) Charlie Crist
  • His tax plan is okay, though could use some tweaking (I actually prefer Cruz’s)
  • He’s electable
  • He has a good sense of humor
  • He’s intelligent and quick on his feet (usually – New Hampshire debate? Not so much!)

I should note that when I recently took the “I Side With” Quiz, I got a 90% match with Cruz and an 85% match with Rubio.  By that point, my sense that Rubio would fare better in the General Election kept me in his camp, but I like Cruz and happily claim him as my second choice. One thing I said at the outset of the primaries though was that there were two GOP candidates for whom I could not and would not vote: Mike Huckabee and Donald Trump. Huckabee’s a long story for another day, but my opposition to Trump has been a constant since before he officially announced in June (long before I settled on Rubio as my choice or even thought he (Rubio) had a serious shot at the nomination) and has remained steady ever since.  Which brings me to:

A principled opposition to Trump

When Jamie was kind enough to take my call yesterday, I was a bit nervous, so I’m not certain I recall all of the reasons I gave, but I do know I mentioned concern over several of his not-so-conservative positions and his authoritarian impulses. What I may not have been clear about is that, yes, a good deal of it also has to do with his style.  More than anything, one of the key factors which I take into consideration as to any candidate is whether (and how) I’ll be able to defend my support of him or her – and do so credibly. And I do not feel — have never felt — that I could do that with Donald Trump.  His rhetoric is bombastic and often a bridge-too-far (feeding into the negative stereotypes assigned to Republicans and Conservatives), and even if I could look past that in order to get behind his core principles, I’ve never been able to discern with any confidence what his core principles actually are!  In short, he’s never come anywhere close to closing “the deal” with me.

And I’m not alone in that.  Of the multitude of articles I’ve encountered expressing opposition to him as the nominee, these three best (and far more eloquently than I can) capture and express my sentiments on the topic:

Never Trump

Clarifying the Message of Never Trump

An Open Letter to Trump Supporters

This is why I decided (months ago) that should Donald Trump become the GOP nominee, I will write in someone else (probably Rubio, maybe Calvin Coolidge) for the Presidential spot and vote the down-ticket races.  I would never not vote. I was raised on politics, and the thought of sitting out an election goes against the core of who I am. Nor could I bring myself to vote for Hillary Clinton. (As cool as the thought of electing a woman President may be, I’ve never cared for Hillary, not even when I was still a liberal Democrat who voted for her husband – twice. More on that in a moment.)

What happens, though, when one makes this sort of declaration, is that others object. They argue (and there’s a legitimate logic to this) that a non-vote for the GOP nominee is a de facto vote for Democratic nominee. Sometimes they even try to bully or guilt you into walking it back — a tweet the other day insisted that because I’d survived breast cancer, I couldn’t possibly shirk my obligation to vote for Trump in order to stop Hillary.  (That one left a little to be desired in the logic department. Points for originality, though!)  Well, I won’t be guilted or bullied into violating my conscience.

The argument that I’m duty bound to support my party’s nominee no matter what fails for me, as well.  Because, you see, I’m not a Republican.  I’m a Conservative (or, to be exact, a recovering liberal Democrat who converted to conservatism a dozen-or so years ago, and who can most accurately be described as a fiscal conservative/social moderate/with libertarian leanings – just like it says on my Twitter profile!) And the primary reason I’m not a Republican is because as I’ve grown in my understanding of and appreciation for conservatism, I’ve repeatedly been disappointed by the way the GOP as a party handles – well, just about everything.  The GOP’s knack for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory is legendary.  And for the past five-or-so years, as I’ve been more active in the conservative movement, I’ve been right there alongside the “grass roots,” railing against the Establishment when it was clearly selling out core conservative principles. For me to turn around now and vote for a nominee whom I don’t believe espouses or even truly understands what conservatism is simply because he has an “R” behind his name would be just as much of a sell out.  So I won’t do it.

What I also won’t do, though, is run down those who’ve chosen to back him (or another candidate.)  So if someone were to start a #NeverRubio movement, I’d raise an eyebrow and shake my head, and I might even question them about it – but I won’t attack them for it.  We all have our reasons for supporting certain candidates and not supporting others.  I may find other’s reasons lacking (as I’m sure some will find mine), but in the end, we’re all Americans, trying to elect leaders we feel will best do honor to their offices and their country.  Hopefully, sometimes, we get it right.



Echoes: One Voice

Four years ago this morning, I learned of Andrew Breitbart’s passing.  It was a gut punch – or, really, a heart punch – to me.  I know I was far from alone in that.  

As we make our way through Super Tuesday, 2016, an election season like no other, I can’t help but wonder what our #HappyWarrior would be thinking of it all – what sort of fun he’d be having, even in the face of all the anger and frustration many are feeling – and voicing – these days. I can’t help but picture him with a gleam in his eye, bounding up onto a stage somewhere – CPAC, a beleaguered politician’s press conference – wherever he went, Andrew always seemed to bound.  

In his far too short life, he helped many of us find our “voice.”  And, in that way, his one voice continues to echo.  Still, it is missed.  He is missed.

Video Credit: Rick Hornsby 

50 Shades of Ferguson

“Where were you when….?”  The special we’re preparing to air on FTRRadio starts out with that question. Four-and-a-half months ago, when news of the Michael Brown shooting broke, I was returning from a typical Saturday afternoon at the soccer park, with zero realization that this would become one of those moments. It’s always disturbing to hear of a young person’s death, but sadly, not so uncommon as to seem like one of those time-standing-still moments that become fixed in one’s memory like an historical north star. Even the fact that Brown’s death came at the hands of police didn’t immediately signal to me that we’d still be talking about it as 2014 draws to a close. Nor did I foresee then that the north county neighborhood I’d always thought of as simply an older, blue-collar, racially diverse suburb would soon become a sociological Rorschach with a different meaning to each, and a hashtag with a life of its own.

When a vigil the following day gave way to a protest, and later to looting and rioting, I watched and shook my head in disbelief at the destructive forces I was witnessing. I recognized the tire store whose windows were smashed out; the parking lots from which several local newscasters were reporting. Ferguson isn’t my home town, but it’s an integral part of the St. Louis fabric, and near enough to home that seeing violence and chaos erupt on its streets rattled me in a way most news stories don’t — not in fear for my own safety, but in sadness for my community.

As the days wore on and competing narratives unfurled, it was tempting to choose a “side.” Sometimes, as new evidence came to light, and emotionally persuasive arguments were hashed out, it was hard not to, but I kept reminding myself — I wasn’t there, and I don’t know exactly what happened. Just as people who’ve never been to St. Louis or Ferguson don’t know our community. Early on, I bristled when I saw Ferguson referred to as “Selma.”  But then, I also had to acknowledge that there were problems and tensions present from which I’d previously remained somewhat shielded.  I started looking a little closer, listening a little longer.  

When I heard a rapper named Daywalker call into the Allman in the Morning Show and relate to the host, Jamie Allman, not only his experience as a protestor, but also his hope and vision that somehow Ferguson could become an opportunity for rebuilding, rather than just a tragedy, I was intrigued. On a whim, I contacted Jamie and asked if he’d be willing to put me in touch with Daywalker — I thought it might be interesting to have him on my show as a guest.  Jamie very graciously did so, and soon, what began as a one time interview turned into a regular segment on my show, featuring Daywalker as our “Northside Correspondent.” 

I quickly learned that Daywalker was bursting not only with energy, but also with ideas. When he suggested that we sit down with his Rabbi, Susan Talve, to interview her regarding her role as a clergy member who’d been part of the protests, I was unsure. I knew it would be interesting to speak with her, but I was uncertain as to how we might incorporate that into the show — doubly so when what I’d expected to be a 15 or 20 minute interview turned into 45 minutes. The thought occurred to me that we might want to go a slightly different direction.  

When Daywalker followed that up with the suggestion we speak with St. Louis County Police Department Spokesman Sergeant Brian Schellman, the idea for a stand-alone special on Ferguson began to take shape.  Ultimately, we spoke with Sgt. Schellman and another officer from one of the North County municipal police departments. We also met with Jamie Allman to get his take on the media coverage regarding Ferguson.  Then, too, I took the opportunity to interview Daywalker — after all, he lives in the community, and it was his passion that set us on this journey.  I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting, but I was pleasantly surprised by the willingness of all of our guests to speak with us, and so openly. I felt like we ended up with some very frank and fascinating discussions, rather than canned, cautious responses.  

What my co-host, Jason Dibler, then did to piece them all together and incorporate some of Daywalker’s music, is nothing short of amazing, in my view. In the end, I believe we’ve managed to put together a very honest and compelling look at Ferguson, and what it’s meant to protestors, police, members of the media, and the community.

For my own part, it’s taught me that each one of us has a story, and that if you give them a chance, most people will share theirs with you. Sometimes, all it takes is asking a question or two. Sometimes, all it takes is really looking another in the eye and acknowledging them as an individual, as someone who matters.  

Since we completed our interviews, the story of Ferguson — and the larger stories of police and the communities they serve and of race relations as a whole — have continued to unfold.  From the non-indictment in the Eric Garner case, to demonstrations turned into riots, to the assassination of Officers Ramos and Liu, it seems like Ferguson has become the pulled thread in an ever unraveling societal fabric. Which is why the question, “Where do we go from here?” seems such a fitting way to close out the special. 

Where do we go, indeed? I can’t say that I know for certain, but I feel like I have an idea: It starts, I believe, with remembering our humanity. 

I hope you’ll join us on this Tuesday, December 30th, at 8:00 p.m. Eastern, for our special: Ferguson. 


Election Reflection

38 years ago, I was a big Jimmy Carter fan. I was 8, so maybe my adoration of the peanut farmer with the big smile wasn’t based on sound governing or political principles.  Certainly, my worldview and personal philosophies have changed quite a bit since then, so that adoration has long since abated. Still, I was very excited that November for the presidential race, and was disappointed that I had to go to bed before they called it.  When my Mom greeted me with the newspaper the following morning, she smiled and said, “Don’t gloat.”  (She knew a certain boy I liked was a Ford fan and we’d been smack-talking in the days leading up to the election in the way that 8 year olds do.)  

And she was right. It’s a bit unseemly to gloat after an election that goes the way you wanted it to.  It’s certainly unpleasant to see others do it when the shoe is on the other foot. And it feeds fully into the whole “politics as team sports” mentality which is, in my view, one of the sorriest aspects of our politics these days. In the end, all the “wins” in the world don’t guarantee that those elected will execute their sworn duties faithfully and effectively or govern in a way that benefits their constituency and/or America as a whole more than it benefits them and/or their cronies personally.  The GOP had a good night last night. The reptilian/team sport part of my brain is gratified.  The rest of me is skeptical.  

It’s impossible for me to think of politics — and particularly, election night watch parties and returns — without thinking of my parents.  They are the source of my political junkiedom.  I know I’ve written of it before, but my Dad was at the Democratic Convention in Chicago in 1968 and came home from that only to have to turn around and take my Mom to the hospital to have me.  They had me out helping them plant campaign signs as a toddler.  Later, in my early teen years, the three of us trekked to Washington D.C., where, in addition to visiting the monument-must-see’s, we also visited with Congressmen Robert Young and Ike Skelton.  Ike was my Dad’s law school roommate and generously took me with him when he was called to the floor of the House to cast a vote. He even let me push the button for him (shhhhh…don’t tell.  I wish I could remember what the vote was.)  In fact, I recently re-posted a picture of Ike and me on the Capitol steps after that visit on the one year anniversary of his passing.  

I know my folks were intent on spending last evening plunked in front of the television watching the results roll in.  But…you know what they say about those best laid plans….  Dad had a bit of a scare last night.  His blood pressure suddenly dropped very low and he passed out while he and Mom were having dinner at home. He’d come to by the time the paramedics arrived, and was feeling well enough before they left the house to remind my Mom to tape his television shows, and to take my sister’s call on his cell phone while in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Later, while he was waiting for them to get a room set up, he made sure to request one with a TV so he could watch the election returns.  (These things are so very my Dad I can’t help but smile at them all.)  He’s stable and they’re simply hanging onto him (last night and possibly tonight) to monitor things and make sure he’s okay. I’m sure he will be, but prayers for him are certainly welcome and appreciated if you’re so inclined. 

My politics are quite different from my Dad’s these days, and I imagine the outcomes that pleased me last night are the ones that displeased him, and vice-versa. That’s okay.  He’s my Dad and I love him, quirks and all, more than words can say.