Hope is a journey, not a destination

Evil.

We find ourselves debating whether or not it exists.

Which is what Evil wants. The distraction of it all.

If we are debating its existence it has achieved much of what it wants.

The murder of children in our schools.  The attempted assassination of political leaders at softball games, at their homes or at their offices.

The murder of eleven Jews in a place so near to God you can almost hear the pleas for mercy in their dying breaths.

Evil is not new.

Nor did it appear because of an election.

It has been with us since the dawn of time.

It ebbs and its flows.

It embeds itself in men and women who conduct themselves outside of humanity.

In doing so, it splits our souls and allows us to do things to one another that are no longer unspeakable.

No longer unfathomable.

The things Evil gives far too many in our country permission to do is no longer something we can avoid talking about as a nation built upon the premise of life, liberty and the pursuit of justice…for all.

It now calls us to action.

It must force us to confront our….demons.

We are splitting apart as a nation.  Not because one half of the country believes in one thing and the other half of the country believes in something else.

No.  Our split is not so easily discernable.

In fact, it really is less of a split and more of a splintering of America.

A split now seems so easy and convenient to solve.

At least we would hope to believe that to be.

Because a split would suggest that all it takes is a charismatic political leader or a change of leadership in Congress to make things better for all of America.

A splintering of America, though, requires something more profound to happen in our country.

It requires something an election cannot fix.

Evil doesn’t fear a person.  Nor does it fear an election.

Evil doesn’t take sides or support Democrats over Republicans.

Evil doesn’t have an opinion on media bias.

It doesn’t have to.

As long as we find someone else to blame for hatred, incivility, bitterness, rancor and terror, then Evil has each of us doing its dirty work.

Those reading these words will likely believe that someone else started what is ailing America.

It was this President or that President.  This political party or that one.

Maybe it was this media outlet or, perhaps, all of them.

Whoever it is and whoever it was that started it, there seems to be a clear consensus amongst Americans:  “It wasn’t any of us.”

Yet, if we could get outside of earshot of Evil, and if, we could, find our way to putting our lips to God’s ears, we might find our way to admit:  “It is me.”

It is, to be sure, all of us.

Evil does not exist in a vacuum.  It does not simply show up.

It has never gone away.

Yet, at times when humanity’s existence seemed so bleak there came those who came together to push Evil back where it hides in the darkness.

Human beings brought light.

Americans, in the modern era of humanity, brought light to the world.

We did it even while darkness descended in our own country.

Too easily we could have been afraid of the light and stayed in the dark.

It wasn’t a politician or a spiritual leader that walked us through the valley.

It was each of us, as Americans, who were endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable Rights.

The dead do not bury themselves.

It is up to the living to bring them to their eternal rest.

As we do, those who have taken their last breath on Earth at the hands of Evil, will judge the living they have left behind.

In their judgement will they hear us finding others to blame?

In our Tweets, or Facebook posts or angry screeds on talk radio, cable news or print publications will a truth emerge that proves someone else is responsible for their lifeless bodies?

Or, can we, finally, admit that we have met the enemy.  We have met the Evil.

It is us.

Not because each of us commits acts of Evil.

But, because, when Evil commits acts of Evil we have found ourselves unable, and unwilling, to gather together and admit that we have given it the spark to start the flame.

And, we have given it the oxygen to build the flame that is burning deep within America.

Which, if we do not find a way to come together to snuff it out the flame will become an inferno that will consume all of us.

The Talmud says, “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

Let us not abandon America to Evil.

So, ends our 12^th Fall50 Relay Race in Door County, Wisconsin.

And, with it, perhaps a changing of the seasons that goes beyond the Fall colors that welcome us each year for this wonderful gathering of family.

We found the Fall50 in Green Bay, Wisconsin as Mary-Helen and I picked up our packet for the first marathon I ever did – The Green Bay Marathon.

I was taken, not by the description of the glorious colors of Door County in the fall.

Rather, it was the really cool medal that had a big metal “Fall50” logo with a huge chain you used to hang around your neck.

We missed the first year of the Fall50.

But, we have been back ever since.

Not all of us at the same time.  I have missed one Fall50 during that time.  Mary-Helen hasn’t missed one since we began running the race.

Over the years the names, faces and participants on our Fall50 relay teams have changed.

It’s mostly been family, but in a pinch,  we’ve had family friends participate as members of our team.

A constant each and every year is the excitement that begins with the moment that registration opens to the moment we all arrive in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin and start to excitedly talk about the upcoming race.

The Fall50 has become a central pivot point in our family life.

Over the years we’ve had both of our children with us for the event.

The first few years they would stay behind at the hotel with the children of Mary-Helen’s cousins, Grandma from Green Bay and other Aunts and Uncles and enjoy in the warm comfort of the pool, hotel room and play area.

Parents have gotten older.  Runners have gotten older.  Our bodies have gotten older.

What hasn’t gotten older is the joy I feel every year when we gather together to enjoy one another’s company for a race that we are confident each year we will beat the previous years’ time.

This year we did not.

I could care less.

Some of our team from year’s past have had to take a break due to school obligations, sore bodies and schedule conflicts.

We’ve had an addition of a new Team member the past two years, Chris, who along with my son, Owen, have become the anchor of our Team.

Their youth and enthusiasm for this race is not about beating a time or setting a record.

It is about the entirety of the experience from beginning to end.

This year we were down to four runners – Owen, Chris, Mary-Helen and me.

As the oldest and heaviest of the Team I undoubtedly weighed down our time this year.

Yet, despite my increasingly labored running and gait, I am always grateful for the support, encouragement and enthusiasm of my Team as they clap, and cheer and honk along the way of my route throughout the day.

There are already too many memories to recount from this year’s event.

Every year we walk away with memories that we relive year in and year out.

They represent a rich fabric of lives that have been well lived.

Next year’s Fall50 has already been scheduled.

Who our Team will be next year remains to be seen.

My son, Owen, may soon find himself off to college somewhere in the world.  Perhaps it will be next year that his school schedule and life outside our home will be a conflict that keeps him from joining us in Door County.

Along the way of the next 365 days other changes may take place that alter the course of who will, and who won’t, make up the composition of our Fall50 Relay Team.

I am content to believe that I will continue to do this race, along with Mary-Helen, as long as we are able to move – and as long as others on our Team allow us the privilege of joining them along the 50 miles of joy, fun, celebration and family we have had over the past 12 races.

Today, I am sore.  My chest hurts.  Tomorrow it will all hurt even more.

Yesterday, I cursed my way up a muddy, wet hill that seemed to never end.

No matter.  When the race was done we gathered together and celebrated another year of being together as a family and a team in Door County at the Fall50.

The smiles.  The laughs.  The complaining of traffic, parking and horrible weather.  The hot tub and the cards and the food and the 8-hour long car ride through Door County as each member of our Team begins and ends their leg.

This isn’t a race we are trying to win.

It’s a race we simply don’t ever want to end.

Against a backdrop of incessant noise that blares with negativity I find the solitude of gratitude to be a comforting silence.

Which is, for more times than I can remember, where I found myself this Thursday; surrounded, literally, by men and women who are involved in the Real Estate industry.

More specifically, Realtors – and those who support them with their various services, products and solutions.

Spare Key was provided the opportunity to participate in this year’s Minnesota REALTORS UNITE! State Convention in St. Paul.

As we have had the good fortune to do for five years with their peers at the North Dakota Association of REALTORS and the South Dakota Association of REALTORS the good people of the Minnesota REALTORS wanted to give us a platform to share our mission and to raise some funds to support it.

Chris Galler, the CEO of the Minnesota REALTORS, an 18,000-member strong organization, approached us with an open heart and asked if we would participate with this year’s event.

We, of course, accepted the invitation barely before the words left his lips.

And, yesterday I, along with Spare Key Team Members Abby Hunt and Jackson Larson, got to spend our with a lot of those members of the Minnesota REALTORS.

Jackson, always one to lift your spirit with his faith and his love of life and others, gave us the privilege of hearing his story, shared with courage, in a room filled with awe.

And, before you ask the question, “Did you raise any money?”

The answer is yes!

Through $15,000 raised by hundreds of Minnesota REALTORS in about 12 minutes, passing around little Spare Key houses, we were able to match their generosity with $15,000 from the Richard M. Schulze Family Foundation for a total of $30,000.

Not bad for 12 minutes.

But this post isn’t really about the money.  Even though, it seems, in the work that I do as Executive Director for Spare Key it is always about the money.

It’s really about the generosity of people in the world I have found myself in the non-profit world for nearly seven years.

People like Long Doan

Long, who serves as a member of the Spare Key Board of Directors, is a powerful force of nature.

I have known Long for several years.  But, always on the periphery.

We would run into one another at different events and I would always wonder who this person was who was always in a hurry, but oozed passion and sincerity.

Over time, and through conversations with others, I was convinced that he would make a valuable member of my Board of Directors.

And, before I go much further I want to emphasize that I have an amazing Board of Directors.

The growth and impact of Spare Key since I took the reins of the organization simply could not happen without three things:

A small, but dedicated, staff.

Generous and kind donors.

Committed and passionate Board Members.

In the RiverCentre for the Minnesota REALTORS were other Spare Key Board Members, or the companies which our Board Members work.

People like Belinda Price of Movement Mortgage – a person who is intense, sincere and gracious and kind.

Her presence on our Board of Directors has brought us national attention through the Movement Foundation, as well as significant funds to support our mission.

Of course, there is Cindy Koebele, CEO and Founder of TitleSmart.  Our Board President, Cindy is a whirling dervish of activity, productivity and accomplishment.

I cannot even begin to describe the impact she has made on Spare Key during her time on our Board of Directors.

Wells Fargo was represented in the house – as it is on our Board of Directors with Dean Wahlin.  Dean’s integrity and sincerity is matched equally by being someone who delivers on his promises and commitments.

Which brings me back to Long Doan.

And the meaning of generosity.

Not just in money and deeds.

But in heart and in spirit.

In April 2017, in a story in Real Estate Magazine, Long is quoted as saying:

“My passion is to help people…and real estate is my platform to do that. This is my 25th year in the business. My parents have a great deal to do with my success today, but there’s a long story behind that.”

And, there is, indeed, a story behind that.

A story that includes being an 8-year-old child whose life is forever changed when Communists in Saigon ripped his family apart to being a 12-year old refugee fleeing persecution and oppression to, finally, being a 32-year-old who negotiated the release of his father to allow his family to come together again as one in the United States of America.

But there’s really no “finally” to Long Doan’s journey in life.

Nor is there any end to his passion for a life that has been a true measure of the spirit of generosity but also the power of the human spirit.

Today, Long, and his partner, Mike Bernier, lead Realty group, one of the largest independent real estate firms in Minnesota, winning numerous awards and ranking number one in the state for net growth.

Yet, as you read Long’s story in this article http://realestateagentmagazine.com/twin-cities/long-doan/ you can clearly tell that as proud as that accomplishment is in his life it pales in comparison to the pride he has in the people who have surrounded him in this world.

Gratitude may well be Long Doan’s middle name.

Which brings me back to base:  Gratitude.

Gratitude for REALTORS who fill little box houses made of cardboard with money and wait patiently for us to swipe their credit cards to raise funds for Spare Key.

Gratitude for Board Members, donors and staff who encourage, challenge, support and energize me on the few bad days, but mostly the good days, as the Executive Director of Spare Key.

Gratitude to people like Long Doan who remind me that it isn’t where we come from in life that defines us in the end, but what we have done with our life by the time of its end that will tell the true story of our journey.

I find the solitude of gratitude to be a powerful voice that drowns out the noise of a world that seems intent on pulling itself apart.

Because that voice, I truly believe, has the power to bring us together if we will simply take the time to listen to it.

Owen didn’t come into this world easy.

Not much about Owen has ever been easy since he took his first gulp of Earth’s air.

And, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

I look to my left this morning at the wall that has the markings that track his progress in height from the time he was two months old until today – a baby turned boy who has become a man at 18 years old.

Anybody who knows me knows I believe the world needs more Heroes.

Owen has always been mine.

I look at this young man who stands nearly six foot three inches tall and I marvel at what substance there is between that slender frame of a body.

If character was DNA my son would be made up entirely of it.

Even in his faults and missteps and mistakes they have been done with character.

He has a firm belief that his purpose on Earth is to be a voice for those who have none – an advocate for those who are not being heard – and a defender for those who need someone to stand for and stand up for them.

Yet, behind those brilliant blue eyes and that smile that makes you swoon is a mind that cuts as quickly as it can heal.

It has been said about Owen that he is both a sponge and a fountain.

He holds inside his head more knowledge than should be humanly possible.

That he is willing to share it freely and openly and with enthusiasm is one of my son’s most endearing qualities.

Knowing Owen is knowing someone who knows who he is.  Who understands and embraces his qualities and virtues without guile and without pretension.

The kid that bought donuts for himself and then quietly gave them to someone on the corner who was hungry is the same young man helped a boy study for a class – encouraging him – prodding him – and applauding him when he achieved success when he thought it was not in him to find it.

Who spent hours helping a friend study for a test – who doesn’t just wish for good things to happen to others but finds ways to make it so.

Owen has firm beliefs, unshakeable values and a sense of fair play and justice that defines his daily life.

Big or small, Owen understands that what harms one of us harms all of us.

The fact that today, on his 18^th birthday, he sees his new found right and privilege to vote in the November Election as one of the most important moments of his life, tells you much of what you need to know about Owen.

Service to community.  To people.  His country.

These are reflections of the inner Owen that he shares with more than just words.

A dear friend of mine has often said there are, in the world, people who care so much about something they almost do something about it.

Owen cares so much and he does things about it.

I’m mindful that my son is a young man.  I am also quite aware he is not far removed from still being a boy.

There is still the glee that comes from boy things and toys that I hope he never loses.

And, gratefully, there are still times, rarer and far less frequent, when I can sneak in a hug and a snuggle and a kiss.

I miss those days when he would forget what he was going to say and would choose to replace his lost thoughts with “I love you!”

The times I would sneak into his room at night and snuggle up to him for awhile and listen to him breathe – and sometimes fall asleep next to him – are but a distant memory.

Soon enough my son will find his place in a world outside our home.

He has worked hard to get to this place in his life.

I am proud of that journey.  It hasn’t been a straight line.  There’s been some detours.  He hit some bumps in the road.

But he never found a wall that stopped him.

I don’t believe he ever will.

Courage.  Character.  Commitment.

I think those three words define Owen Mische.

And, I am glad they do.  They are the adjectives of a leader.

Loyal.  Kind.  Compassion.  Justice.

These are the adjectives of a human being that the world needs more of on this planet.

Owen is a walking adjective of the kind of person I wish I knew when I was young.

He is the kind of person I am proud to know as my son.

We all get to a place in our life when we wonder whether what we have done was enough to make a difference in the world.

Today, I know that whatever it is I have done, or haven’t done, to make a difference in the world the one thing I did right was be the proud father of Owen Mische.

Happy Birthday, Owen.

I love you!

When a 55-year old man finds himself quoting Chance the Rapper you know something amazing has happened in his life.

Which is what happened to me this day 16 years ago when my world changed with the birth of my Daughter, Margaret Elizabeth, more often known as Maisie.

“I didn’t know love until I had my Daughter.  I didn’t know its bounds.”

Today, Maisie is 16.

And, I am still learning that love has no bounds when it comes to how much I love my brown-eyed, brown-haired young woman who never fails to capture my heart.

She came into the world covered in hair from head to toe.

Yet, underneath it the fire that is in her eyes came shining through.

They were piercing.

She would set them on a person and you could feel their presence.

Once she found you with them she would not let you go until you connected with her.

And, then, and without warning, she would smile.

Your life, like mine, would never be the same.

Because when Maisie smiles, the world around her smiles.

My Daughter is remarkable.  She is smart, clever, kind and compassionate.

She is ferocious in her loyalty.

Her beliefs.  Who she is.  The values she holds dear.

Sixteen years since she joined us in the world I still marvel at the gift God gave me with a Daughter.

Her arrival snuck up on me in the sense that I could not fathom I would have a child that was a girl.

So much so that when the Doctor told me she was a girl I was stupefied.

It never really occurred to me that I would be the Dad of a Daughter.

Then, once understanding the words, “You have a Daughter.” I have spent the past 16 years learning something new about her every single day.

I have enjoyed every stage of life and development of Maisie.

The holding of her tiny furnace of a body.

The dancing with her in the kitchen until she would fall asleep.  Her sweaty head nestled on my neck and her thick, brown hair sprawled all over her face.

Her first days of school.  The friends she would make through the years.  The sadness and pain of those who weren’t friendly to her.

The moments I spent sharing stories with her about when I was a young boy in a small town to get her to fall asleep.

The mornings I crept in to wake her for the day and snuggled in until we had to get up and go on with life in the world outside our home.

Then, one day, almost as though I hadn’t been paying attention, she grew up into a young woman.

Her chosen passion in life is passion.

About nearly everything.

From the robotics team, Robettes, to theater, to music, to her love for her dog, Sailor, Maisie brings passion to her very existence.

The beliefs she has she shares with passion.

She will not be easily swayed from where she stands.

There is in her strength that comes from strong women in her life.

She does not need to be motivated by those who tell her what she cannot do.

She is motivated solely by whatever it is she chooses to do.

There is a world around Maisie that needs more of Maisie.

It needs her generous spirit.  Her sense of justice and equity.  The indisputable belief that every person has worth.

The day has long passed since my Daughter needed to hold my hand to find her way in the world.

I miss those days more than my heart can explain.

Yet, I am proud that she will go into the world as a person who is not only capable of changing it, but more importantly, as a person who will make it better.

There will come a day when the door to our home shuts behind Maisie and she will venture out in the world and find a new home.

I know it.

And, I know that when it happens a part of me will break.

The part that she took from me 16 years ago.

My heart.

But it will  be worth every single breath of every single day of my Daughter’s life.

I love you, Maisie.

Happy Birthday!

 

This week many, not all, paid tribute to the live and times of John McCain.

In a nation of 325 million Americans it is clear that no consensus exists as to the importance of the life, and loss, of John McCain.

In a life lived in conflict, John McCain’s very funeral wasn’t exempt from the contentious and restless nature of a man who was felled, at 81, of cancer.

John McCain had a long life.  One I have no doubt he wished would have been longer.  One, I am certain, those who loved him the most and the hardest wish was longer, as well.

Yet, in 81 years John McCain left few stones unturned.

John McCain, like America, was not perfect.

Like every human being he had flaws.

Flaws that those who find him lacking have been quick to highlight over the past week.

That he had flaws is not remarkable.

In spite of those flaws John McCain, with his body deep in the ground, his soul set free, forces us to face the fact that we are all equally flawed.

If, in doing so, we become a better America, that is what will make John McCain far more remarkable.

Today, we live in a time of Donald Trump’s stolen valor.

A man who has seemingly convinced millions of my fellow Americans that he is just like them.

That he is the anti-establishment.  That he is the voice of their hopes, dreams and aspirations.

No greater fiction has been put upon the American people than the false pretense that Donald Trump stands for something that nobody before him ever did.

A man who spent his entire life doing everything he could not to be a common man, or to be in the company of common men, is now claiming that only he represents the voice of the common man.

Ironically, John McCain was no common man, either.

Born into a life of privilege, John McCain died surrounded by a life of privilege.

Yet, what John McCain showed us is that being a Hero and an American is not measured by your wealth.

Nor is it proven by bragging about it.

What he showed us is that despite all the benefits of his ancestry and lineage he was willing to put his life before others in the service of his nation.

He, not Donald Trump, climbed into a plane to serve his nation.

He, not Donald Trump, spent 5 ½ years imprisoned, tortured beyond measure, and willingly gave up his chance for freedom so that others might have it before him.

He, not Donald Trump, spent the remainder of his life doing what he could to make the America he was willing to lay down his life for an America that fewer Americans would have to do so in the future.

John McCain, if we were all telling the truth, isn’t a better reflection of who we are Americans.

John McCain, if we were all telling the truth, is a better reflection of what we used to be as Americans.

A week of eulogies and tributes to John McCain are, to be sure, a collection of words by those who loved him, admired him, opposed him, but all who came to honor him.

For those who have decided they are either for or against the man in the White House who is our President the die has been cast.

If you are for him, you found the celebration of John McCain’s life to be attack on Donald Trump.

If you are against him, you found the celebration of  John McCain’s life to be an attack on Donald Trump.

It is my hope, perhaps a naïve hope, that John McCain did not seek to have his funeral to be remembered as a collection of words spoken to celebrate him.

Rather, he wanted it to be a symbol of what makes America great.

John McCain’s body was surrounded all week by men and women who have deeply divided political, policy and philosophical beliefs and loyalties.

With few exceptions there is nowhere else in the world in which the critics, opponents, enemies and antagonists of a political leader of a nation would gather to honor him and what he believed.

Yet, those same men and women surrounded him remain loyal to what it was McCain cared most about:  America.

Not its land.  Its wealth.  Or the privilege we have as being in the greatest nation the world has ever known.

It is a loyalty to the idea of America.

Sometimes you can’t put words to it.  Our Founders did, at our beginning, and those words sprang forth into an idea that is America.

Yet, nothing written since then has done more to advance the cause of the idea of American than the action of those who have lived and breathed those words, or whose last breath was given to defending them.

Those like John McCain.

In a world in which great men and women are in short supply the demand for them has never been greater.

John McCain’s passing deprives America of a Hero.

Not our first Hero, or our last, or perhaps, not even our greatest Hero.

But, for this time, and our future, perhaps our most important Hero.

 

As a young man at St. Cloud State University I admit I was far more left of center then than I am today.

That being said, as I enter my mid-middle age years I find myself tilting further to the left than I did during my 30’s and 40’s.

However, it would be a mistake to suggest that tilting further to the left means I support proposals by my Mayor to raise my taxes by double-digits – again – or that we should permit our school board to raise taxes – again – or that we should just spend more taxpayer’s money because it makes us feel like we are doing something.

One doesn’t have to be liberal and not be a conservative.

Nor does one have to be a conservative and not be a liberal.

Frankly, one doesn’t have to be either one all the time on every single issue absolutely.

Which is how I have found myself in my 55^th year on the planet Earth.

I have never been one to support ideologues of either ideology or party.

As a college student it is true that I supported nearly every single liberal cause I could find.  And, when I couldn’t find one I kept on looking.

I don’t regret any of that.  I am grateful for that time of my life.

Which is why I don’t particularly find myself critical of young people today who seem more and more open to the concept of Socialism when it comes to a governing ideology in American life.

I, too, as a young man, could find compelling concepts around the idea of Socialism.

In theory, there were positive attributes of Socialism, from my  perspective, when I was a young man.

People helped one another.  We were all a community.  The village was helping everyone – regardless of their means.

We all cooperated with one another and everyone got an equal part of the pie.

Nobody had to really be a leader.  We would just all collaborate and find consensus.

Of course, Socialism really has failed to deliver on much of any of this.

But, it takes some time, effort and experience in the world outside of one’s bubble to accept it.

It also requires not ignoring the inconvenient facts and realities of modern day socialism.

A popular refrain I see and hear from people more often today who espouse the “progressive” nature of countries that are not the United States is “How come we can’t be more like them?”

Consider that the United States is home to nearly 325 million people.

The following countries that call themselves Socialist have this as their population:

Iceland – Population – 334,252

Finland – Population – 5.495 million

Sweden – Population – 9.903 million

Venezuela – Population – 31.57 million

Cuba – Population 11.48 million

Canada – Population – 36.29 million

Denmark – Population – 5.731 million

Netherlands – Population – 17.02 million

New Zealand – Population – 4.693 million

Belgium – Population -11.35 million

Now, all one needs to do is do a simple online search and see that Venezuela is a failed nation with its people struggling to survive.

Cuba is not much more than that, despite its lovely weather, beautiful people and “charming” architecture, old cars and decaying infrastructure.

I saw some mention recently on a Twitter Tweet from some self-professed expert on all things that we should be more like Iceland.

Really? Like Iceland?

The United States has nearly 60 cities with populations at or greater than the entire nation of Iceland.

Wyoming has barely 200,000 more inhabitants than the entire country of Iceland.

Attempting to suggest that Iceland – Finland – or New Zealand – are prototype countries we should emulate fails to account for a simple reality:  Population.

Well, there are much bigger Socialist countries that have a lot more population than Iceland.

Like China.  A country that represses nearly all form of human rights.

Or Russia.  You know, the country that doesn’t just criticize reporters, it actually hunts them down and murders them. And, pretty much anybody else that its leadership doesn’t like.

Then, of course, there is North Korea. Well, who wouldn’t want to live in North Korea? Nuclear bombs. Big statutes to their exalted leader.

No food. Or human rights. But, hey, that’s beside the point, right?

We live in the most remarkable country in the world.

Not the most perfect one.

There are things we have to do to make it a better country for more people and we have an obligation to do that every single day.

We don’t need any President — Member of Congress — or anybody else tell us how that needs to be done — or when or where it should be done.

We just need to do it ourselves.

That’s the beauty of the America that has no comparison in the world of Socialism.

There doesn’t have to be a consensus, or a government decree, or political party affirmation that American can be a better country than it is today.

There just needs to be 325 million Americans who want to make it so.

 

Despite all evidence to the contrary one cannot be blamed for feeling as though the world is falling apart.

If you entire planetary viewscape is seen from behind a computer screen scrolling the internet visiting social media sites you might believe that people are, by and large, mean to one another.

The same might be derived by watching cable news networks, listening to talk radio, reading the newspaper or viewing the local television newscast.

From those perspectives it sure seems that a lot of people hate a lot of people.

Which is why I am always grateful for the moments I get to spend outside of this small bubble into the world that exists around me.

Such is the case of the past couple of months when I have had the honor and privilege to participate in any number of work and volunteer related events in which I have learned what I have always believed.

A lot of people help a lot of people.

There are the volunteers who support the Visitation High School Robettes program https://www.therobettes.com/  and more broadly the FIRST Robotics https://www.firstinspires.org/robotics/frc

My wife and I had the privilege to travel with the Robettes to Duluth earlier this summer to support them during one of their competitions.  Surrounded by hundreds of dedicated young men and women and their robots one can feel the energy and enthusiasm in the room.

But, behind and in front of the scenes are the hundreds of volunteer parents, mentors and others who support these programs and provide access to them for young men and women learning new skills of science and technology – but also of leadership and teamwork and collaboration.

In April a small group of young men and women hosted a Shark Tank inspired fundraising event call “Charity Wars” in which Spare Key and two other charities “competed” to engage participants into supporting our individual charities.

While Spare Key “won” the contest each of the three charities were able to share our vision, purpose, mission and passion with hundreds who attended the event.

In July our good friends from the http://www.rocketrestaurantgroup.com/ and their Team from The Loop http://minneapolis.looprestaurants.com/ and dozens of vendors, volunteers and golfers came together to support Spare Key at a fundraising golf event.  The third year we have been honored to be a part of this event it is always a reminder of the goodness and generosity of those who want to help support people in need.

Our friends from the Minnesota Mortgage Association, http://themma.org/ did the same in July – hosting their annual golf tourney in support of Spare Key and just last week their President, Steve Furlong of https://www.muihomeloans.com/ hosted a get-together with MMA members to learn more about Spare Key.

Two weeks ago, my small and passionate and amazing Spare Key Team and I were in St. Louis for the PGA Championship.

There, along with nearly 850 volunteers from the St. Louis Community, we served tens of thousands of attendees’ food and drink for almost a week.

850 volunteers who had barely heard of Spare Key before but came together to support us and commit their day and their time to help others on hot and humid days.

Our partner Prom Levy Golf http://www.levyrestaurants.com/ has given this opportunity in the past with other events and we try hard to live up to our commitment and promises.  We have been rewarded with amazing volunteers who help us raise valuable resources for our program.

And, this past weekend I had the privilege to volunteer, along with my wife, for Serving our Troops https://www.servingourtroops.com/ serve lunch to members of the military and their family at the http://www.133aw.ang.af.mil/ in St. Paul.

As I watched those who serve America be served by dozens of others who represent the best of America I could not helped be moved by the genuine goodness of people.

That I had the privilege to play a very small part in Serving Our Troops beginning as Chief of Staff to Senator Norm Coleman many years ago was another reminder of the remarkable honor I have had in public service throughout my life.

It is even more a testament to the leadership of Norm throughout the years that he stepped up to create the platform for Serving Our Troops to get started, and to Pat Harris for the vision, the passion and the commitment to keep it going and expanding so that today the organization has served over 90,000 steak dinners to American military members throughout the world.

Also, this weekend I spent my Sunday with my Spare Key Team and our Board Chair and CEO of TitleSmart https://title-smart.com/ Cindy Koebele and her Team at our annual 5K at Lake Phalen.

This year we had the privilege to have over 30 members of the NSCC Twin Cities Squadron Sea Cadets https://seacadetstwincities.org/  and their volunteer parents and Officers join us as volunteers and hundreds of runners and walkers for our Bounce and not Break 5K.

As Sea Cadets swarmed and helped set-up, and other volunteers supported us throughout the day, the Spare Key Team was able to execute an event that could only be done by an organization with a much larger staff.

Together, all of us got to see the bravery and courage of Jackson Larson as he ran/walked/rolled the 5K with his wheelchair and http://rewalk.com/ wearable robotic exoskeleton.

I share these moments with you because among the thousands of people helping people the past several months there wasn’t a single instance of me looking around the faces of those serving – and those being served – that I felt the world was coming apart at its seams.

On the contrary:  What I saw was the world coming together in real, actionable ways.

There was no theory.  Nobody had to be told how to help or who to help.

No festivals where people gather to dance around and talk about how they really are passionate about wanting to do something to help people.  Or, people wringing their hands wondering aloud how they may, someday, be able to put their passion to help people into action.

To paraphrase a line from my friend Norm Coleman: There were no leaders without followers out taking a walk.

Nope.  There were just people doing it.  Helping people.  Making a real difference in real people’s lives.

The world I live in, I work in and I am honored to be a part of, is not a bad world filled with bad people.

It is a very good world filled with human beings who want to help other human beings with everything that every human being needs:  Someone to care about them.

The family of Joseph Brian Gomm, 45, laid him to rest.

They were joined by thousands of fellow men and women from across America who have dedicated their lives to protecting and serving Minnesotans.

According to the Minnesota Board of Peace Officer Standards and Training (POST) there are a total of 431 law enforcement agencies in Minnesota.

They range from departments with nearly 1,000 peace officers to those as few as 3.

As of the date which POST published this information there was roughly 10,918 licensed Peace Officers.

On June 18th that number dropped by one.

In the Land of 10,000 Lakes there is one less Hero serving the people of Minnesota.

Joseph Gomm is not the last of the brave men and women we will lose in the line of duty in Minnesota — or in America.

It is the terrifying reality of serving in one of the most dangerous jobs society has deemed necessary to maintain the rule of law.

We have lost nearly 250 members of law enforcement in Minnesota throughout the years in some form of line of duty death.  Across America that number is in the thousands.

Each and every one of them is a loss for their family and those that love them the most.

Yet, each and every one of them is a loss for our community and another tear in the fabric of our communities.

It serves no useful purpose to dwell on the manner in which Officer Gomm took his last breath other than to say that it was brutal, tragic and heartbreaking.

He was a young man.  From all accounts a good man.  Someone who took pride in his job.  His community.

His obituary states that “Joe enjoyed cooking, playing online video games, and had a love of animals. His quick witty demeanor will be missed by all.”

http://www.startribune.com/obituaries/detail/0000266223/?fullname=joseph-brian-gomm

That seems so…human.

Nothing pretentious.  No grand and sweeping description that offers us any reason to believe that Joe was any more, or any less, an “average” Joe.

I have spent a lifetime surrounded by “average” Joe’s who have put their lives on the line protecting and serving our communities.

This much is true, there is nothing average about any of them when it comes to their courage and commitment.

From the small-town cop to the big city police chief I have come to appreciate and honor the difficult job and role they play in our lives.

They are no longer being asked to stop crime.  Arrest bad guys.  And, serve as the barrier between us and evil.

We call upon them perform countless tasks each and everyday that go above and beyond what any of us would ever do.

Yes, it is true, it was their choice to pursue this career.

It is also true that among the ranks of the 10, 917 licensed Peace Officers there are those that do not serve with the level of distinction and integrity we ask them to aspire to when they don the uniform of their respective agency.

Over the past several years we have seen a greater demand from the public for more accountability from and in law enforcement.

That’s a good thing for all of us – including those who serve in law enforcement.

But there has also been an intensifying attack on the character of police officers throughout the country.

From local politicians who declare that police brutality is a “public health crisis” to those who suggest we should disarm, or more bizarrely, abolish police officers, the men and women who serve our communities are under increasing attack from those they serve.

There is no question that there is a greater degree of scrutiny that should be given to those who have the tools, the means and, often the necessity, to inflict deadly force in our communities.

We should hold them to a higher standard because of their profession.

But, we should not hold them to a different standard because of who they are as a person.

Joe Gomm, like Bill Mathews, like Ron Ryan, Jr., Tim Jones and hundreds of other men and women of law enforcement who have given their lives in the line of duty were living, breathing human beings.

Hopes and aspirations for themselves, their family and for their community.

Not even one of them put on their uniform on the day of their end of watch believing they would not step back through the door of their home into the loving arms of those who embraced them.

Joe Gomm, who enjoyed cooking, playing video games, loved animals and had a quick and witty demeanor, gave his life so somebody else’s life would not be given.

He, like thousands of others across America, fell doing the work and the jobs few of us would ever willingly choose to do.

Blessed be the Peacemakers.

 

I have had a job since I was 13 years old.

Which means, I have been working for 42 years of my 55 years of life.

That sure sounds like a lot of work.

I have enjoyed working.  I like working.  I like working less at 55 than when I was 25 and 35 but I still enjoy the entire experience.

Having work, of any kind, during the past 42 years has provided me with a living for myself and my family.  It has permitted to go and do things I could not have otherwise done.  I have had the honor and privilege of meeting amazing people – and some not amazing people – over the past 42 years.

I’ve had great success.  I have had monumental failures, as well.

While I believe that failure is a key element of learning in one’s life I would be lying if I suggested that my favorite thing about work is failing.

It’s not.

Yet, throughout those 42 years I have often wondered, as I am sure many do, what else could I have done with my time.  What other accomplishments might I have been able to pursue.  Other interests.

Other goals, hopes, dreams and aspirations were put on hold because of working.

It is a reflection I have more about my children’s future today than about my own.

The rapidly growing evolution of Artificial Intelligence or, AI, is soon to redefine what we consider to be work.

It will also redefine what it means to make a living and, more importantly, how one will make a living.

Jobs we know about today will cease to exist in the future.  I might add that the future is not as far off as you think, either.

Some have estimated that as many as 50% of U.S. workers will see their jobs automated over the next 20 years.

A stat that I pulled off Brookings underscores the following:

“A McKinsey Global Institute analysis of 750 jobs concluded that “45% of paid activities could be automated using ‘currently demonstrated technologies’ and . . . 60% of occupations could have 30% or more of their processes automated.”[6] A more recent McKinsey report, “Jobs Lost, Jobs Gained,” found that 30 percent of “work activities” could be automated by 2030 and up to 375 million workers worldwide could be affected by emerging technologies.[7]”

This is all a big deal.

Because, when AI comes in a big wave, and it is most certainly already here in smaller waves, every living human being in the world will be impacted.

This will become, perhaps, the most disruptive human triggered event in human history.

Of course, wars, poverty, famine, global warming and all of the other things that humankind has had a role in creating or exacerbating were hugely disruptive.

The key here, though, is disruptive how?

Disruptive good?  Bad?

Probably both.

Further, like most things in life whether it is good or bad may well depend on your point of view and perspective.

In 2016 I spent some time with people whose brain cells work differently and better than mine on Necker Island at an event presented by Singularity University and hosted by Sir Richard Branson.

The discussion centered around exponential technologies and how they are changing the world we live in every single second of every single day.

I don’t recall exactly where but I do remember that at some point in this gathering the conversation began to revolve around the concept of Universal Basic Income or, UBI.

There are lots of definitions of UBI floating around the place but here is one I think represents, for me, a fairly decent description:

“Universal basic income (UBI) is a model for providing all citizens of a country or other geographic area with a given sum of money, regardless of their income, resources or employment status. The purpose of the UBI is to prevent or reduce poverty and increase equality among citizens.”

I admit when I first started listening to the conversation with, at the time 40 years of working in a variety of jobs in my life behind me, I wasn’t enamored with giving people money for not working.

After all, in the United States there are those who might call our welfare program for many decades to simply have been a form of UBI.

The outcome of that was the creation of generations of Americans of every race, gender, background, region and experience in every part of the country who were tied to a system that actually deprived them of opportunity rather than creating opportunity for them and their family.

Yet, if one examines the concept of UBI closer and ties it to the growing impact of AI in the lives of everyone in the world we would be foolish to not begin having a conversation about what the real world will look like in 20 years as it pertains to work, jobs and earning and living.

Advocates of UBI spend too much time, I believe, on waxing poetic about giving people money without conditions so that they can focus their energy on being creative, visionary and inventive.

Yes, I suppose it is true that had I had access to UBI over the past 40 years I could have done some amazing things.

Or, I could have not done anything.

For me the point of a UBI isn’t about releasing people’s inner passion for everything other than work.

It’s about creating equity, opportunity and stability for the world in which we are going to live.

There exists on this planet some 200 million plus people who do not have a job and nearly 3 billion people who do have a job.

We already know that in this current state of the world there is great inequity that creates strife and conflict.

Now, add to that number hundreds of millions of more, perhaps billions more, who will be out of work in a figurative blink of an eye and what do we think the world will look like?

I don’t think it will look very good if those millions, and billions, of people are without work or work that provides them with any real ability to make a living.

I do know that this to be true:  If people aren’t worrying about putting food on the table, how they will pay their bills, or a host of other worries that come into their life because of lack of enough money, their life is a better life.

A better life for more people on the planet results in a better world for more human beings.

Universal Basic Income has to be at the center of the discussion of the future of our world in a soon-to-be AI existence.

I am still not sold on the implementation ideas that many have presented as it relates to UBI.

I am sold, however, that it is no longer a question of if, but when, we will need to decide on the future of the world we will live in with AI.

I would like us, as the humans, to beat the robots to the punch.