Infrastructure.

I love the word.

More importantly, I love the promise it has for America’s strong economic future.

Yet, we live in a day and age where repairing roads and building bridges and strengthening our electrical grid don’t evoke drama and excitement.

The notion that we should invest in things that won’t get built for years and in many cases won’t be something those of us paying for it now will ever drive, walk or bike doesn’t make the pulse race and the heart pound.

It’s time to make infrastructure sexy again!

Every year the American Society of Civil Engineers(ASCE) gives America a grade about its investment in our national infrastructure.

Every four years they grade us on our ability to succeed as a nation with respect to our national infrastructure.

Their last report card in 2013 was depressing enough.

Not taking action soon will make 2017 even more so.

To learn more about their grades in 2013 you can go to this link:

http://www.infrastructurereportcard.org

If our children were averaging grades of D+ at school most of us would be mortified.

Yet, when the most significant aspect of growing and sustaining our economy – our infrastructure – is consistently being given a D+ grade we can barely stifle a yawn.

According to the ASCE the cost to repair and improve America’s infrastructure is easily $3.6 trillion.

That’s trillion with a capital “T!”

Infrastructure, for those not familiar with it, is nearly everything that we depend upon in American life to function as a society, a culture and an economy.

It is our energy grid, our ports, bridges, public parks, roads, rail lines, dams, water systems – anything that carries, holds, transports and otherwise conveys freight, energy and people and products is done on or in infrastructure in America.

Infrastructure is important.

It’s also expensive.

But it’s not getting any less expensive to build the longer we delay it.

But it is getting more expensive to our future the longer we ignore it.

Unfortunately, those who are responsible for making the decisions to invest in our public infrastructure – politicians – are incapable of finding their way forward to do it.

And, those who are responsible for trying to communicate why it needs to be done – engineers – are seemingly incapable of making a compelling case for why it must be done.

America’s new President has promised to invest $1 trillion in infrastructure.

While less than a third of what is needed to adequately address our infrastructure crisis it is far better than nothing.

Unfortunately, politicians on both sides are already lining up to ensure that it ends up being virtually nothing.

Even folks who are supposed to be advancing the cause for investment in infrastructure are throwing cold water on the notion we should make an infrastructure moonshot.

Here’s a guy named Kevin Gluba, Executive Director for the Alliance for Innovation and Infrastructure, already throwing in the towel:

“Everybody is putting together their Christmas lists for what they want to see in an infrastructure bill…the biggest question: Who is going to pay for it? Many of the ideas floating around are far too pricey to make into law.”

Actually Kevin Gluba the biggest question isn’t “Who is going to pay for it?”

We already know that.

We are.

One way or another.

We are either going to pay for it by actually investing in infrastructure and building it.

Or, we are going to pay for it by doing absolutely nothing.

We’ve been down the path of the latter.

Now it is time to take the path of the former.

Infrastructure is not sexy.

But, neither is a bridge collapse killing and injuring hundreds.  Nor is a dam bursting and drowning communities.  Or a train going off the tracks and killing and injuring hundreds.

There is nothing sexy about a power grid.  But, there’s nothing sexy, either, about our factories grinding to a halt or our homes going down when the power grid fails.

So, if the horrible things about our failing infrastructure aren’t sexy then it is time to make the great things about an improved and growing infrastructure sexy.

The weird thing about infrastructure debates to me is how unnecessarily ridiculous they end up being.

Republicans say they love infrastructure but then complain about how much it costs.

Democrats say they love infrastructure but then complain about how much corporate America will make if we invest in it.

For my Republican friends, I would say this:  When you buy a home you don’t flinch at taking out a 30-year mortgage to live in a house that, when all is said and done, will cost you far more than the purchase price.

Unless you are one of the very fortunate few most of us can’t walk into the bank and write out a check for the full amount of a home we buy.

We accept that there is a down payment but that we will likely spend the next thirty years of our life working to pay a mortgage that we may or may not ever fully complete.

The trade-off for you paying through the nose for a house is that you get to live in it now, raise a family and, if all goes well, perhaps sell it someday and make a bit off profit of it to live on the rest of your life.

Look at infrastructure the same way.

Make a down payment on what we need to do today, and recognize that we will be paying for it for the next 30, 50 or 100 years for something that we can use today.

To my Democratic friends, I would say this:  If corporations make money off infrastructure so, too, do the people working for them that are building the roads, the bridges and the dams and every other dang thing that $3.6 trillion will buy.

If you believe that infrastructure is about good paying jobs for American workers then stop getting hung up on the fact that corporate America is going to make a profit, too.

Unless, of course, you think that all of America’s infrastructure is going to be built by the government.

Last time I checked “built by the government” involves contracting with corporate America to build our roads, bridges and nearly everything else called infrastructure.

In about a month a new Congress, a new President and dozens of new state legislatures and Governors will be sworn into office.

There’s no better way to kick-off the New Year by making a New Year’s Resolution that the first order of business needs to be to invest in America’s infrastructure.

Whatever it takes to make infrastructure sexy again should be the priority of every elected official in America.

Pay for it now.

Or make your kids and grandkids pay for it later.

It’s just that easy of a choice.

 

 

 

 

 

(I published this post shortly after I returned from Necker Island in December 2016.  I remain grateful of a life spent breaking the rules to try to save the world)

A couple months ago, a friend of mine sent me an email that essentially said, “I want you to go to Necker Island and hang out with people who are changing the world and I am paying for it.”

In sharing this news with my wife, she was enormously impressed with my friend’s generosity and inquired, “You do know that Richard Branson owns that island and lives on it?”

I would be lying if I said that I did.

I have known of Richard Branson for as long as I can remember.  A successful business man.  A business man who wasn’t always successful.  A generous philanthropist.  A noted adventurer and thrill seeker. 

A whirling dervish of a man with a twinkle in his eye and an explosive smile.

Necker Island was everything and more that I imagined and had read about.  The people who attended were as successful and brilliant and passionate as I envisioned them to be. 

From exponential technology that is not just changing lives but is saving lives to artists who are creating new mediums of expression using virtual reality to scientists harnessing video games to treat diseases of the mind I was treated to a smorgasbord of remarkable people doing remarkable things to make a remarkable world.

My time with all of them was, in a word, remarkable.

But, my dinner with Richard Branson is the reminder I desperately needed in a jaded world that good and decent men still occupy this planet.

It would be a misstatement of fact to suggest I did not prepare for dinner with Richard Branson. 

I am a planner.  Not in a bureaucratic big government kind of way.

No, I am a planner in an I am about to have a once-in-a-lifetime experience and I don’t want to miss it kind of way.

The attire theme of the evening was white.  I have to be honest.  White is not my best color.  Upon donning my shirt and slacks I resembled something that looked like a large, misshaped cloud.  But rather than gracefully floating I really ended up looking and walking like a ruffled and middle-aged pillow.

It is important for me to pause here, briefly, to point out that in my preparations for my trip to Necker Island and having dinner with Branson I learned of his near obsession with not wanting to wear a tie.

Branson, in fact, so hates them that when he encounters those wearing them he is often known to grab a scissors and cut them off the offending individual.

So, I did what any self-respecting huckster would do.

I wore a tie to dinner with Richard Branson.

But this story isn’t about the tie.

This story is about dinner with Richard Branson and what I learned about him and myself that evening.

I deliberately sat in the middle of the long table as others jockeyed for the corners of the end of each side of the table anticipating that Branson would be seated at whatever would be considered the head of the table.

I learned a long time ago that smart people who enjoy conversations with others don’t sit at the head of the table.

Those who do are the people who want others to listen to them.

Those who sit in the middle of the table usually want to listen to others.

Richard Branson sits in the middle of the table.

I also didn’t care to spend much time asking Branson about his philosophy of life – why he jumped into big dangerous balloons to fly across vast oceans – or if he had one piece of advice about how to save the world what would it be.

Nope.

I asked Branson what he thought about Donald Trump and America.

Those expecting me to share devastating commentary that Branson may have said about the election of Donald Trump as America’s next President will be sorely disappointed that this too is not what this story is about.

What it is about his Branson’s belief that America is still the most powerful force for good in the world.

Don’t misinterpret that last sentence.

Branson is a Brit and as a Brit he still believes his blessed United Kingdom is still the greatest place on Earth.

After all, the United States didn’t endow him with the title “Sir Richard Branson” – that was the Queen of England.

But, Branson is, if nothing else, a learned man who is still astonishingly young despite his amazing and accomplished life.

He has seen an America that is still astonishingly young despite its amazing and accomplished life.

He sees America through the eyes of someone who has been virtually everywhere on Earth that there is a way to reach.

Inside of him and from the words that come out of him America is not a tired, beaten down nation looking at its best days in the rear-view mirror.

On the contrary, despite his concerns about political leadership in America Branson deliberately surrounded himself throughout the week by some of the greatest minds in America.

Not politicians and the privileged elite.

But by people who, like him, decided that breaking the rules of expectations was far more likely to create a better world than following the rules that someone else created to stop others from breaking the rules.

Every person I met on that island was breaking the rules.  Not out of spite or disrespect.  But, out of a sense of urgency that there’s not enough time in the short life we all have on this planet to allow life changing and life saving ideas and solutions to wait for proper etiquette.

Richard Branson has never waited for proper etiquette.

Because of that he is not everyone’s cup of tea.

With dinner ended Branson did, as I hoped, drag me up on his dining room table and proceed to grab my tie and cut it off me.

He did it with glee and ceremony and the gusto of a man whose appetite for life is abundantly apparent.

Before I left the island, I enjoyed the opportunity of having Branson gleefully destroying me in a tennis tournament.

I gleefully enjoyed photobombing him with bunny ears.

I returned home from my trip to Necker Island and considered my bucket list.

I have a bulging life bucket list. 

It doesn’t help that every time I remove something from it I find myself compelled to add to it.

There’s no hole in that bucket. 

It’s just that a lot of things I want to do I have done and I hate to have anything half empty in my life.

Has the opportunity to go to Necker Island, hang with really smart world-changing people and meet Richard Branson been on my life bucket list?

Nope.

Yet, sometimes things jump into the bucket without me knowing it and I find myself pleasantly surprised that what I wasn’t seeking came and found me instead.

My dinner with Sir Richard Branson was in that bucket list and came and found me.

Now I need to add something else to the bucket.

“The melting pot of America was not seething with resentment, anger, conflict or division in building that robot.

It was boiling with cooperation, collaboration, leadership, vision, community and purpose in building that robot.”

 

Much has been written and talked about with respect to the so-called Millennial Generation.

Depending on your perspective they are either the most ridiculous, lazy and self-entitled generation in history, or the most creative, empathetic and well-rounded generation in history.

Somewhere along the line of generational history I suspect the G.I., the Silent, the Baby Boom and the Baby Boom generation were either celebrated or dismissed for one reason or another.

For those of you keeping track the Population Reference Bureau goes back to the late 1800’s to describe the Hard Timers and New Worlders generation.

I can only imagine what people at the time thought of those generation of young Americans!

The next generation that will come after the Millennial Generation is the group that my children, The Dude and The Daughter, occupy:  Generation Z.

Or, as Wikipedia alternately refers to them:  Post-Millennials, the iGeneration, Founders, Plurals, or the Homeland Generation.

Further, in describing the characteristics of Generation Z, Wikipedia states  “A significant aspect of this generation is the widespread usage of the Internet from a young age. Members of Generation Z are typically thought of as being comfortable with technology, and interacting on social media websites for a significant portion of their socializing. Some commentators have suggested that growing up through the Great Recession has given the cohort a feeling of unsettlement and insecurity.”

I can’t tell you whether my kids have a feeling of unsettlement and insecurity.

I know that many Americans have feelings of unsettlement and insecurity with respect to the future of this country.

I am here to assure you that those concerns should be allayed when contemplating the future of America in the hands of Generation Z.

This past weekend I had the distinct honor and privilege to join with hundreds of parents at a suburban school outside of St. Paul for the First Tech Challenge/High Tech Kids Challenge.

The event featured scores of school teams engaged in a high-tech competition involving robots that they built, programmed and operated through multiple rounds of required tasks to demonstrate their technological skills and abilities.

This post isn’t, however, about robots.

It’s about the young boys and girls that built them.

To be sure the robots were amazing.  They hummed, whirred, spun around, moved back and forth, lifted platforms, carried objects and threw them into small confined spaces.

To a guy with a C minus intellect whose vision of creating a drawer of dressers devolved into a wobbly corner shelf during carpentry class I was blown away by the accomplishment of these young people in their robot creations.

But, I was more blown away by the hundreds of people inside that auditorium that day.

If we viewed the world only through the lens of the television news, read about it in our newspapers or learned about it from the radio, it would be easy to imagine America on fire.

We could be excused for believing that our nation’s diverse tapestry is being torn apart by a clash of race and civilization that is rooted in hate, fear, disrespect and intolerance.

Not being naïve I know that there are times and moments in America where that tapestry has been torn.

It has become frayed in some corners of America.  In fact, the middle of that fabric has become weaker as its strands have been pulled and pushed apart by conflict, anger and misunderstanding.

Still, in the room that day were boys and girls of every size, color, shape and ability.  Big smiles, handshakes, high-fives, hugs and words of encouragement came and went from black kids to white kids.

Joy and disappointment, celebration and despair, were in the shoulders and steps of every child that day from kids born in America, those born elsewhere and those whose ethnicity spanned the globe.

The robots they built were amazing.

The effort that went into building them is even more amazing.

Because to be successful at the end, one must be successful in the beginning.

Success, defined for this story, is children making the decision to work together to create something good and meaningful.

To work together without regard or consideration for the color of the fingers of the boy or girl using a tool to put two pieces of metal together.

To work together not noting the accent of the girl or boy who is reading them instructions about the next steps to program a robot.

To work together not caring if the boy or girl next to them was born in America or came to America who is trying to manage the controls to move the robot’s parts in a way that makes it move back, forward, right, left, up and down.

In every auditorium in America that pot boils.

In every classroom.  On every playground.

That pot boils.

I believe every generation of Americans is the greatest generation.

Every generation has its flaws, weaknesses, shortcomings and success and failures.

It’s not being the perfect generation that has made America great.

It’s the imperfect generations that strive for perfection that has made America great.

In that auditorium that day I was reminded of that as I nearly fell over from screaming and cheering that a little robot that my Generation Z Daughter and her friends and classmates had conceived and conspired together to build lifted a big blue ball up off the ground.

It will be the same generation that someday will lift the big blue ball called Earth ever further.

Despite my deep respect for Tim Penny and Tom Horner their recent commentary in the Star Tribune is further evidence that politicians of every stripe are going to try to “gimmick” their way to solving the perceived electoral woes in America.

Creating confusing new ways to count votes, suggesting that there is some fancy way to keep big money out of politics and demanding that the Republican and Democratic Party give up control of their “infrastructure” sound like wonderfully wonky and clever ideas.

They are also just another way of keeping us from confronting the truth about our political system in America.

If we want to know who is responsible for the system we have I would direct each of us to walk to any mirror of any size in any location where you might be situated and look at it.

That person looking back at you is the person responsible for the mess we are in.

Want to know why we ended up with the candidates for President we had in this cycle?

It wasn’t because of some sinister Russian plot, the proliferation of “fake news” or the failure of the media to “do their job.”

We, the People, did not do our job.

If one were to use the grading system that my kids have at school as whether we pass or fail as Americans when it comes to the exercise of our right to vote we would fail miserably.

This year alone only 58% of Americans eligible to vote voted.

In 2016 it is estimated that 134 million Americans came out and voted.

Sounds impressive, right?

Wrong.

Given that 232 million Americans are actually eligible to vote that means nearly 98 million Americans didn’t vote this year.

I didn’t vote for either Trump or Clinton.  But, my decision to avoid casting my vote for them began months before the November election.

Which, whether we like it or not, is when the candidates we get in November are being chosen months before we have the opportunity to vote for or against them.

Or, in the case of 98 million of us, don’t bother to vote at all.

Elections, like life, belongs to those of us who actually show up.

I know it is comforting to point fingers everywhere else for what ails us today in our political system and process but the nasty little truth is that we are making ourselves sick by not bothering to participate.

Yes, I get the fact that we’re sick and tired of the influence of big money in politics.  I get that we are fed up with politicians telling us one thing during a campaign and then doing something completely different after they get elected.

The truth is; however, nothing changes unless we change it.

It starts with showing up.

It starts with ending the notion that Congress sucks but our own member of Congress doesn’t suck.

It starts with realizing that in Congress today there are dozens of members of the House and Senate that have served in their position for 20, 30, 40 or more years.

Want to wonder why there is a lack of diversity in public office today?  Look no further than our own State Legislature, County Boards, School Boards and other local offices.  How many St. Paul and Minneapolis legislators have held office for 20 or 30 years?

In St. Paul there has not been a woman or a person of color elected Mayor since its incorporation in 1854.

Ever.

Ever. 

Or, how about this:  Per the New York Times “… the median net worth of a member of Congress was $1.03 million in 2013, compared with $56,355 for the average American household.”

That means that at any given time more than 270 members of the 533 members of Congress are millionaires.

In a nation of over 300 million people is it possible that there is nobody around to serve in public office today that wouldn’t be just as good, and quite probably better than, those who currently hold office in Congress?

Recent stories in this newspaper cite the fact that there are hundreds of positions at every level of government in Minnesota where there are no candidates to run.

Elections and politics aren’t rocket science.

That politicians, consultants, pollsters, media analysts and others who make their living off elections and politics want you to think it is may be, in fact, one of the reasons why people run away from politics and government like the Vikings run away from the Super Bowl.

Fixing this is not that complicated.  We need to stop believing those who tell us it is.  We need to stop blaming what’s broken on everybody or everything else.

Most of all we need to stop telling ourselves we can’t make a difference.

We can.  You can.  I can.

98 million Americans who didn’t believe they could have made a difference could, in fact, have made a difference.

It starts with showing up.

It starts with making our rights as Americans a priority in our life.

After all, it’s our county.

What we do with it, or don’t, is our choice.

 

Thanksgiving, is without a doubt, my favorite holiday.

True, it does not carry with it the spiritual and faith dimensions of Christmas and Easter for those who, like myself, consider themselves Catholics.

Thanksgiving is not, in the true sense, a “Holy Day”, from which the term “holiday” is derived.

Quibbling aside it remains my favorite holiday.

I’ve always appreciated the idea that there is one day a year in which we should gather together with friends and family and be thankful and grateful for our lives.

In my family of 9 children there was never a quiet or small Thanksgiving.  There were, to be sure, some Thanksgiving holidays which were more joyous and celebratory as others.

But, there was never, in my mind, a Thanksgiving where I was not grateful for the gathering noise of my brothers and sisters as we came together from near and far to enjoy one another’s company around mountains of food.

As we grew older and we began to have lives and families of our own the gatherings grew bigger and then, in the blink of an eye, they grew smaller as the children of the children of my mother and father began to go their own way – creating their own special gatherings – finding ways to mark their own version of “Thanksgiving.”

My gratitude for my life, those in it, and the world in which I am privileged to live every day, is not isolated to a single day.  However, I cannot imagine my life without a Thanksgiving.

Right now, as I type this, from the warmth of my little cabin next to my little lake with my not so little son lying on the floor in front of a fire, waiting for my wife, my daughter and our new little dog to arrive, I am reflecting on this year alone as one of gratitude and blessing.

There are moments, big and small, brief and sustained, that are touchstones for my thanks this year.

I am thankful growing strength of Spare Key as we begin to see the fruits of our labor the past five years begin to accumulate into an organization that is poised to embark on its next three years of serving more families than we served in the previous three years.

Thankful for the Board who have committed themselves to building our capacity, grateful for the small team of dedicated staff who work hard to help more and beyond humbled by those who donate their time and their money to help others they have never met and will never know “Bounce and not Break.”

I am honored by the new friendships I have made this year, the new beginnings with old friendships and the gratitude to know that some friendships simply need to honored by the wise words of Dr. Seuss who said, “Don’t cry because it’s over smile because it happened.”

Despite the ugly vitriol of our recent election I am grateful to live in this country and of all the opportunities each and every one of us have to make it a better, more prosperous country for everyone.

I am grateful for my right to be annoyed at others who I do not agree with and thankful for the advance of age that tempers my belief that I need to let them know I am annoyed!

 

It’s so easy to get discouraged, apathetic, disgusted, disgruntled and every other descriptive device about how tough it may feel some days to simply get out of bed in the morning.

I know that there are those in America – those who live in my city – who I may work with – who I know – those I love – who struggle every single day.  I am not divorced from the reality that they find little to be thankful about some days – or every day.

I am thankful, to that end, that I can do something to help in some way to help others find the light in the dark.  I’m not unable to make a difference.  I can.  I hope I do.  I aspire to.  Every day.

This year I will celebrate Thanksgiving at the physical place that calms me with the three people who inspire me to be thankful and grateful every day.

In closing with my gratitude for this time of year I am particularly thankful for a phone call from Heaven barely a month ago.  A phone call that, despite its promise for tragedy, opened the door for healing, recovery and renewal for my child.

Throughout my life there have been those phone calls, literally and figuratively, from Heaven and the God who is in it.

I do not hear God’s voice on those calls.

But, I am grateful and thankful beyond these written words for what God tells me when he calls.

This year God called when I least expected it but when my child desperately needed me to pick up.

Thank God I did.

For that, for all that I have had this remarkable year of my life, I am thankful for the Thanksgiving that is mine each and every day.

Spare Key, www.sparekey.org, is a Minnesota based non-profit that provides housing grants on behalf of families with critically ill and seriously injured children in the hospital.

Founded in 1997 by Robb and Patsy Keech, Spare Key has been an essential source of support for over 3,100 families with more than $3.1 million in housing grants.

Next year we celebrate the organization’s 20^th Anniversary.  Spare Key has been a living legacy to the memory of Derian Keech, the son of Robb and Patsy, who earned his Angel Wings at the age of 2 ½ years old.  The son whose own broken heart has given comfort to the troubled hearts of thousands of parents and their children and families for nearly two decades.

We say that Spare Key helps families “Bounce and not Break” with the gift of time.  Our program mission is designed to allow families to focus on the care and recovery of their critically ill or seriously injured child.  Or, to provide the grace of allowing families to be together when a child is nearing the end of their life.

It has been one of the great honors of my life in public service to help lead this organization with its talented staff, and working alongside a devoted and committed Board of Directors, and have our mission supported by the generosity of our amazing donors.

Spare Key is unique in several ways.

First, we have no income guidelines.  For nearly 60 percent of the families we support Spare Key will be the only source of financial support they will ever receive.

Second, we don’t take the type of illness or injury into account for families to qualify.  Whether your child is in the fight against cancer – struggling to survive from premature birth or a birth defect – battling against the effects of chronic disease – beating the effects of a devastating injury – or learning to live life with a mental illness – Spare Key is committed to supporting you and your family.

Third, we don’t limit the number of times we will serve a family.  Spare Key has provided some families with two, three, four or more mortgage grants over the years.

No matter the illness.  No matter the injury.  No matter the income.  For 20 years, Spare Key has been honored to help families Bounce and not Break.

This Thursday is “Give to the Max Day” in Minnesota.  It’s a special day of the year in which Minnesotans are called upon to donate to the charity of their choice.  It’s intended to be a day that allows non-profits in Minnesota – which number nearly the same number of lakes we are proud of highlighting on our license plates – to share with the public the important work they do in supporting our communities.

Spare Key will participate in Give to the Max Day with what we are calling “Smash to the Max” – an opportunity for you to come to Anchor Paper in St. Paul and for a $20 donation break, shatter and smash stuff to your hearts content.

If you can’t make it to Smash to the Max, don’t let that stop you from supporting Spare Key.  Go to https://www.givemn.org/project/smash-to-the-max57fbb4c2da7a6 and make a donation of any size.

And, thanks to the generosity of the Richard M. Schulze Family Foundation, every new donor that day will have their donation matched dollar-for-dollar all day long.

Over the next few days any living person in Minnesota who has ever given money to a charity will be besieged by emails from those charities appealing for donations during Give to the Max Day.

I won’t lie to you.

We will be sending you those emails, too.

I know it will annoy many of you.  I get it.  But, I also get this.

If you don’t support the work of Spare Key – and the many other amazing non-profits in Minnesota – who will?

Without your support for Spare Key there is no bounce.  Only break.

We are honored to have the support of Anchor Paper, ASI Signage and The Break Room for Spare Key’s “Smash to the Max” Day for Spare Key.

Anchor Paper CEO Brooke Lee, ASI Signage CEO Wendy Pajor and The Break Room CEO Theresa Purcell are examples of strong business leaders who are focused on giving back to their community.  We could not be prouder of our association with them.

If you want to learn more about “Smash to the Max” for Give to the Max Day, please go to https://www.givemn.org/project/smash-to-the-max57fbb4c2da7a6

We would love to see you smashing the crap out of stuff this Thursday!

Thank you in advance for your patience this Thursday.  Thank you for your good humor in not tracking me down and beating me to a pulp for the dozens of emails you are going to get from us and 10,000 other non-profits.

Most of all, thank you for helping families with the gift of time and allowing Spare Key to help them “Bounce and not Break.”

The following are some samples of thoughts I shared with my children during this year’s campaign for President:

• America’s Democracy is messy, complicated and often does little to honor the principles of our Founding Fathers
• Donald Trump has said horrible, cruel, mean and intolerable things throughout his life and this campaign
• Bernie Sanders is never going to be President
• Hillary Clinton thinks she is entitled to be President
• Hillary Clinton is smart and prepared to be the President
• I’m going to the cabin
• Did Marco Rubio really say something about Trump’s hands?
• I like Kasich and will vote for him at precinct caucuses
• I wish Kasich was a better candidate
• Kasich is done
• I’m going to the cabin
• OMG, OMFG, OMSG, OMDG, OMFGYCBS, OMGWTFFFFFFFFFFFFF
• When did Martin O’Malley drop out?
• Ryan Lochte said what?
• Trump is done
• Trump is done
• Trump is done
• Trump is done
• Well, looks like Clinton is going to be President
• Clinton is done
• Clinton is done
• Clinton is done
• Well, looks like Trump is going to be President
• Trump is done
• Clinton is done
• Trump is done
• Trump is done
• Clinton is done
• Trump is done
• Well, looks like Clinton is going to be President
• Well, looks like Trump got elected President

The morning after the election of Donald Trump to be our next President I sat at the kitchen table with my Daughter for breakfast.

Earlier that morning, around 1:30 a.m., as my son dragged himself to bed, disgusted that CNN, NBC, ABC, CBS and FOX were playing chicken with who was going to declare the election over in favor of Trump, I gave him a hug and said,

“This is democracy in action, Owen.  I know the election didn’t turn out the way you wanted, or the way millions of those who voted for Clinton wanted it to turn out, but that’s the system of campaigns and elections we have in this country.  The sun will come up this morning.  Life will go on.  We will survive.”

He mumbled something and disappeared.

Sitting at the kitchen table I thought a lot about what words of wisdom I should share with my Daughter.

What came out was something like this,

“Maisie, the sun came out today.  The world is still spinning on its axis.  You have food on the table, a warm place to sleep and a school to go to learn.  America will go on.  Donald Trump is our President.  That’s how our system of government works. We have an obligation as Americans to respect the will of our fellow citizens who elected him to be President”

Or, some version of that.  At least in my mind that was mostly what I said.

I have been asked, and I have seen the question posed by others, “What will I tell my children about the outcome of this election?”

My children know I did not support Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton for President.

So, I could tell them that the world is coming off the rails.  I could tell them that Donald Trump is a horrible, nasty person who doesn’t deserve to be the President of the United States of America.

I could tell them that because the person they supported did not get elected President they should be angry, upset, scared and unwilling to settle for the candidate that did win the race.

I could tell them he’s not my President.

Or, I could tell them that if they want to change the world the outcome of who won the election to be our President is nowhere as powerful as what they will do in their own lives to impact the world that surrounds them.

Which is the truth.

If we believe – those who voted for Trump or Clinton – or voted against Trump or Clinton – that the election of a one man or one woman to be the President of the United States is the single most important act of democracy in America – then we failed to understand our obligation to America.

Take to the streets, by all means.

But, take to the streets and help raise up the poor and the homeless.

Take to the streets to help an elderly person rake the leaves in her yard.  Take to the streets to volunteer at a food shelter – or an animal human society – or a hospital – or a million other places where your fellow Americans need your generosity, your heart and your hands.

Take to the streets and donate to a charity.  Take to the streets and paint a house for someone.  Take to the streets and buy groceries for a family in need.

Take to the streets and contribute more than just your right to express your opinion.

Election Day was our opportunity to express our opinion at the polls.

The election is over with.  America voted.

Donald Trump is America’s next President.  Donald Trump is my President.

There’s no more ominous feeling in the pit of one’s stomach than finding out that your child is struggling to find the light amidst the darkness in the world.

Inescapable fear that somehow or another as a parent you failed in your duty to protect your child becomes the prevailing sentiment 24 hours of your life.

In my life, there is nothing I have found more profound, meaningful and essential than being a parent. 

The title “Dad” is something I have found to be a privilege, not a right.  It’s an earned responsibility. A duty.  A commitment.  A promise.

From the beginning of my time as a Dad I have learned that the title does not come without trial and error.  Mistakes are made along the way.  Some small. Some big.  But, without fail, each time I have felt I have it down pat I find humility sneaks up and grabs me from behind — reminding me there’s nothing easy about being a Dad.

The past few weeks I have learned more about the humbling reality that the easiest part of being a Dad is saying you are one.

I have also come to further appreciate that my parents, and my brothers and sisters who are parents, and all parents, have a job much tougher than any on this planet.

Within this appreciation is an understanding that today’s parents, and their children, are facing increasingly more difficult odds in a world that is intent on stripping away any form of safety and sanctuary.

In the winsome years of my youth there was never the ubiquity of technology that straddled my life from morning to night.  No constant barrage of sounds and images and messages that confronted me as I lumbered from my bed – to the breakfast table – and then off to school.

The teenage brain and its design has not evolved much since the beginning of time.

It is a complicated and complex paradox of chemicals and electrical impulses.

Unfortunately, while it has remained consistent in its development the inputs to it have not. 

In the rudest, more unfair way, environmental conditions beyond the control of a teenager have identified a host that can be easily damaged, diluted, distracted and numbed.

Somehow in the rush of my life as a Dad I failed to understand the enormity of all of this.  Perhaps it was in the smug belief that I was doing pretty well at this Dad thing – that the rise of the teenager in my midst was being effectively met by a parent who understood his own strengths and weaknesses.

And then the darkness began to block out the light.

There’s a warning here, in the midst of this post, for all of us as parents – Moms and Dads.

Your teenager is calling out to you for help.  You may not know it.  You may not believe it.  You may not see it.

But he or she is calling out for your help.

It may be in the dark recesses of that teenage brain.  The one where what they are thinking and feeling is unable to break through the complicated construction that holds it within their head.

It is an S.O.S.

If you can’t hear it, then you have to see it.  Whether it’s in them – or on the things around them – or the words they use – the friends they have – or the friends they do not have.

The most humbling moment of my life has been realizing that my Dad senses of listening and seeing were far too dull at a time when my child needed them to be on red alert.

With a teenager, what you see is not what you get.

It’s what you don’t see is what you get.

It’s what you don’t see that they desperately need for you to see. 

It’s what you don’t hear that demands you to focus intently on what they are saying.

More importantly, what they are not saying.

Make this moment the one where you check in.  Be the parent.  Not the friend. 

Be the nosey, intruding, bossy, demanding parent who reminds the child and yourself – that you are the parent – they are the child.

Their most basic human right is that you will do whatever you can and whatever you must to protect them.

Don’t wait for a perfect moment.  Don’t wait for the appropriate way to say it.

Just do it.

Your teenager is talking to you.  In words and in deed.

Screaming.  Crying.  Begging.

Scared, anxious, confused, angry and sad. 

Bordering on the line between hopeful and despair. 

Are you listening?

Can you see them?

 

“I am of the firm opinion that we should be more fearful of America’s future if most Americans believe that Clinton or Trump and their potential election to the Presidency is stronger than the principles of American democracy.”

 

A new Harris poll commissioned by the Associated Press says that fifty-two percent of American adults find the 2016 election is a very or somewhat significant source of stress.

I don’t need a poll to know that it is doing that to a lot of my friends – on both sides of the aisle.

While I deliberately chose not to support either major party candidate for President this year I do understand that my friends are legitimately concerned about the fate of America.

Those who support Donald Trump are convinced if Hillary Clinton wins the Republic will fall.

Those who support Hillary Clinton are convinced that if Donald Trump wins the Republic will fall.

Thankfully, they are all wrong.

The United States and its future are not the sum of the election of one man – or one woman – to the White House. 

Nor is it the aggregate of who controls the United States Senate, the U.S. House of Representatives or the ideological makeup of the U.S. Supreme Court. 

Yes, I know it seems like the end is coming.

Trust me, I can feel the stress of it all myself.  I cringe when I turn on the television.  I grit my teeth turning on the radio.  My eyes narrow when I turn on my computer and the internet pops up with a picture of one politician or another pointing their finger at someone or something.

The country has challenges.  It has problems.  It has obstacles in its way.

We need serious political leadership at every level of our government.  We also need serious conversation with one another about what our responsibilities and obligations are as Americans to build a better nation.

Elections come and go in this country. So, too, do politicians. 

Elections do, of course, have consequences. 

But, the consequences to America if Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton are elected President are not the destruction of our country, our values, beliefs or the better days we all want to come for current and future generations.

Oh, I know that there are whatever percent of Hillary supporters and whatever percent of Donald supporters who are convinced I don’t know what I am talking about.

That’s okay.  I’m not looking for validation for my perspective. 

I am convinced that America is going to be okay because I believe we’ve seen worse days than those we live in today.  I believe that we’ve seen worse choices in our body politic than those we have today.

I also believe in the pure genius of America that this moment in time will – as all crisis do – pass.

Earlier today I commented to a friend that if America was capable of surviving Jimmy Carter, Richard Nixon, George W. Bush, Barack Obama and far worse than any of them we will most certainly survive Hillary and Donald.

America has survived a Civil War.  Depression. Recession.  Terror attacks. The scourge and immorality of slavery.  The viciousness of war.  Disco.

To me this election is just that – an election.

Yes, the impact of a victory by Clinton or Trump will have ramifications for America’s future.  It will change the course of history no matter which candidate becomes President.

However, I am of the firm opinion that we should be more fearful of America’s future if most Americans believe that Clinton or Trump and their potential election to the Presidency is stronger than the principles of American democracy.

This is what I believe about America:  We are exceptional.

Exceptional nations don’t rise or fall because of the results of an election.  They rise or fall when its people believe the existential fate of the nation rests on the results of an election.

If I believe that Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton deliberately intended to do harm to America – hated our country – and were focused on destroying the very country, they live in – raise and raised their children in -then I would put all my eggs in that election two weeks from today.

I don’t, thankfully, believe that either of them has designs on the destruction of the United States of America.

Being enormously flawed candidates for President doesn’t equate into being an enormously dangerous President for America.

To my fellow Americans I must tell you that we’ve seen worse days in this country’s history – much worse – and to be sure – we’ve seen worse candidates for President in this country’s history – much worse.

The bones of this nation are strong.  Our democracy was built on those bones.  We may bend those bones but they will not break.

There are other things we can and should do to continue to strengthen America.  Volunteer.  Run for office.  Support our men and women in the armed forces.  Stand up for things you believe in.  Have your voice heard on those things you don’t.  Be a problem solver.  Seek solutions.  Contribute something.  Somehow.  Somewhere. 

Loving America is my unconditional commitment to the future for my children.  I cherish its existence because it is home for my family.  It’s not perfect.  But, it ought to be the goal of every American to make it so.

So, go ahead and vote for Hillary.  Vote for Donald.  Vote for or against anybody you choose to in this year’s election.

Someone will lose. Someone will win. 

America will go on. 

It always has.  It always will.

This Saturday will be Team Cous We Rock’s 10^th Door County Fall 50 relay race.

A 50 mile running race it has become an annual touchstone in the lives of my family.  This year, as with every year, the excitement and anticipation of gathering together with friends and family becomes palpable and, for me, nearly overwhelming.

To get a sense of what the Fall 50 race is all about I stole the following paragraph from their official website:

“The Fall 50 is designed to be a glorious running adventure set against the colorful backdrop of Door County, Wisconsin during peak Fall colors. Participants may compete as members of a team of 2-5 runners or as a solo ultra-marathoner.

The course starts at the northern tip of the Door County peninsula at Gills Rock. The starting line is in front of the Shoreline Restaurant, just up the hill from the Washington Island Ferry parking lot. The course travels south primarily on back roads along the western shoreline. It passes through quaint villages and beautiful park areas including Ellison Bay, Sister Bay, Ephraim, Peninsula Park, Fish Creek, Juddville, Egg Harbor, Murphy Park, Little Harbor, Old Stone Quarry Park and finally Sturgeon Bay.”

The words “glorious”, “adventure” and “colorful backdrop” may well describe the course itself but they also capture the energy and excitement I think everyone who gathers together in a hotel in Sturgeon Bay feels every year.

Ten years ago my son was six – my daughter was four – and when their parents gathered together with aunts and uncles and loaded ourselves into a car to drive to the starting line – they gathered in front of the television to watch cartoons.

Ten years later my 16-year-old son will run at least two of the ten legs of the Fall 50 and he will be the energy and passion his 53-year-old Dad and his always younger Mom will celebrate along the route of the race.

My 14-year-old daughter will stay snuggled in her bed, grateful she gets to spend time in the hotel with her Aunt Katie, Grandma from Green Bay and Great Aunt Pat.

The Fall 50 is, in many ways, the running story of my life.

I am neither a good runner, nor a fast one.  There is a great meme that has a picture of a woman who is running with strong, athletic form and grace with the words “How I think I look when I am running” followed by another picture of a little girl with wide eyes and a harried and exhausted expression with the words “How I actually look when I am running.”

I am that little girl when I run but that woman in my mind.

You get the idea!

But, the Fall 50 isn’t about winning for us. Or, for that matter, being particularly good about running.

For us it was, and always has been, the companionship, the community and the camaraderie of family.

There are so many memories gathered up in the past 10 years of this race for so many of us.

Over those ten years the running has gotten tougher for the older of us, but we celebrate the younger of us now finding the same joy and excitement of coming together for this race as we had ten years earlier.

It’s the pasta the night before in our hotel room.  The card games played around the table throughout the weekend.  The celebratory time we have when we gather in the hotel’s hot tub.

The morning ritual of getting ready to climb into our car and travel the 50 miles to Gills Rock to arrive and prepare for the start of a day of running and laughter.

There are a million memories along the route of those 50 miles of Door County.

Today, we will load up my 2004 Suburban which will officially reach 250,000 miles as we begin our journey tonight to Green Bay and then on to Door County tomorrow morning.

I will pack way too much of everything.  Too much food.  Too much drink.  To many running clothes.

We will pick up my Daughter from soccer and load her sweaty self into the backseat next to her brother.

Before you can say “Door County” they will have on their headphones – the tiny little DVD player screen down – and begin laughing and commenting on some video they have watched a thousand times before on this journey and so many others before it.

I savor and relish every single thing I do to get ready for the Fall 50.  From checking on the weather (that I realize I can’t control) to buying enormous portions of food and drink (clearly, I can’t control myself) all in preparation of this adventure.

Shortly after we arrive in Door County the rest of Cous We Rock will gather.  Cousins, Grandma, Aunt, friends, nieces, nephews, children, husbands and wives will be together.

Kathleen will begin the annual distribution of the incredible shirt she designed for us to wear this year – loud, excited chatter will begin and not end until the last car is packed up and ready to go on Sunday – and the celebration of our adventure will officially begin.

The Fall 50 relay is, as so many other things are, the story and journey of my life.  It never has been a marathon – a lonely, solitary journey of miles.

It has been a twisting, turning, uphill and downhill race.  One where at each leg of my life there has been someone – friend or family – that has taken the baton to bring me to the next leg of my life.

Some legs have been amazing, colorful and joyful – others have been hard, harsh and humbling.  But, each one, the good and the bad, have had me met along the way with love, smiles, encouragement, patience, understanding and compassion.

Team Cous We Rock.

I love you.

Because you rock.