Hope is a journey, not a destination

 

So, something amazing happened in Minnesota over the past few weeks.

No, not the Super Bowl.

Although, that was pretty amazing.  I watched some of the game. The best parts, only.

Which is kind of what my Super Bowl experience has been like the past few weeks.

The best part wasn’t the game for me.

It was everything that led up to the game.

Over a month ago I received a call from a Spare Key Board Member asking if our organization could put two Super Bowl tickets to good use.

My Mom didn’t raise any dumb kids.

She had eight really smart ones.  And, with me, she had to settle for the one with average brainpower.

Even saddled with a C-minus intelligence I knew we could do some good with those Super Bowl Tickets.

So, we decided to raffle them off – and raffle them we did.

And, people bought them. From all over the country, as a matter of fact.

My good friend and Spare Key Board Member, Brooke Lee, let me sleep on her roof to sell more of them.  Another good friend, and new Spare Key Board Member, Derek Lundsten and his company, Scrimmage, not only bought tickets but they helped us sell even more of them.

Friends, like Dick Anfang, who I hadn’t seen in forever called me on the roof of Anchor Paper and said, “I want one” and we proceeded to talk about the days we were crazy enough to blow the whistles of the Titanic in front of a couple hundred thousand people.

Sure, there were people who wanted to win those tickets so they could go to the game.

There were also those people who just wanted to help.

$43,000 later they helped a lot more families who have a sick or injured child in the hospital.

One of those people who bought the ticket so he could go to the game had his heart broken when the Vikings didn’t make it to the big show in Minneapolis.

He went online and found someone in New Jersey whose own heart stood up against the breaking disease of cancer and its brutal impact on the human spirit.

That boy, he decided, needed to go to the Super Bowl.

Yesterday, that 13-year old boy went to the Super Bowl and his team won.

He didn’t go alone.  He went with his Dad.

But, he also went with the kindness and generosity of so many people it is hard to count them.

People who didn’t know him beyond the story his local media told about him.

Those strangers came forward and made a friend they will likely never meet– but who they know walked away from a football game with a memory nobody – or any disease – can ever take away from him.

Another story unfolded that had to do with a 7-year old boy whose Dad died a Hero.

This much I remember about being a 7-year old boy: If given a choice between my Dad being a Hero in Heaven or my Dad being just a Dad on Earth I would have chosen him here with me every morning I woke up.

Against a backdrop of that loss is a determined Mom and wife of that Hero — she, and that same little boy, are no strangers to the kindness of strangers, either.

In a law office in Minneapolis I witnessed lawyers and those who work for them perform their own act of kindness by giving him and his Mom a chance to go to the Super Bowl and watch his favorite player on the field of U.S. Bank Stadium.

Reporters from every Twin Cities television station were there.

More than a few of them wiped away a tear as they watched a little boy open a box he thought was filled with Legos tear off the gift wrap, smile and look at his Mom and say, “We’re going to the Super Bowl.”

I also saw a young woman, whose own brother left this world a Hero, talk to that 7-year old boy.

Her spirit soared for the part she played in lifting his spirits.  She smiled when she talked to him and asked him how he was doing.

I think her own heart was healing a bit at that moment.  I like to think it was.

Maybe I teared up a bit.  Maybe I didn’t.

But, it’s not my eyes or heart that this post is about.

We live in a tough and sad world at times.  Too often harshly touching those who have already seen too much toughness and sadness.

It’s easy to forget that each of us started out as a baby boy or baby girl.

I saw the baby in that 13-year old and 7-year old.

I also saw kindness and warmth in the hearts of thousands of people over the past two weeks who took the time to cheer them on – pay it forward – celebrate their moment of joy.

Throughout the past 3-years there have been thousands of strangers who came together to make sure the Super Bowl that a boy who fought cancer and a 7-year old boy who lost his Dad got to go to.

Without them there was no phone call donating Super Bowl Tickets.  There is no kind stranger donating them to a boy in New Jersey.  Or, lawyer giving them to a sweet 7-year old boy.

No sister of a brother gone too soon finding a way to turn sadness to joy.

Nobody directing anybody on the streets or in the skyway to the right place.  Helping them up the steps at a concert.  Opening the doors to a stadium.

Opening their hearts to strangers.

Over 10,000 strangers in the Land of 10,000 Lakes think what they did was help put on a Super Bowl.

What they really did was start the journey for two boys – who will never know one another – but who have touched the hearts of everyone they have met – and those they will never know – to a football game.

 

 

A few weeks ago, I reconnected with a young man I met while on a trip to Necker Island in 2016.

Derek Lundsten is the CEO of Scrimmage, www.wescrimmage.com, a company founded in 2010 that set out to directly link corporate learning with mobile technology.

In looking at the Scrimmage website one can see an impressive array of corporate clients from all over the world.

But, it isn’t those corporate clients that Derek helped me, and Spare Key, www.sparekey.org, connect with over the course of the last few weeks.

A little backstory first.

Spare Key was on the receiving end of a donation by KleinBank, www.kleinbank.com, a Minnesota family owned and operated bank founded in 1907 of two tickets to Super Bowl LII.

We promptly came up with the idea of selling 250 raffle tickets to give people a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to win those tickets.

Derek reached out to me and said that not only did he want to buy a block of those tickets, but he, through his company, wanted to market and promote our effort across all of their social media platforms.

Perhaps more importantly, Derek asked if I had any interest in a contest with a non-profit that serves youth in the Philadelphia area called Hopeworks ‘N Camden, www.hopeworks.org.

Of course, the contest he had in mind was a bet between me, the Executive Director of Spare Key, and Dan Rhoton, the Executive Director Hopeworks ‘N Camden and it revolved around who would win the NFC Championship Game between the Minnesota Vikings and the Philadelphia Eagles.

By now, you have already learned that the Minnesota Vikings lost.  The Eagles won.

We pulled a winning ticket from the 172 raffle tickets we sold on Twin Cities LIVE! and raised Spare Key $43,000!

And, I am spending the week between now and the Super Bowl wearing Eagles clothing and helping to raise awareness about Hopeworks ‘N Camden.

Let me start by saying that Hopeworks ‘N Camden has a powerful mission serving young people.

Hopeworks ‘N Camden uses education, technology and entrepreneurship to partner with young men and women as they identify and earn a sustainable future.

They seek to seize the opportunity to heal and thrive in the midst of violence and poverty.

In further describing Hopeworks ‘N Camden I thought their own words would serve best:

“The pastoral teams of three Camden churches, two Lutheran and one Catholic, founded Hopeworks collaboratively.  We officially opened our doors to our first trainees in March 2000. Since then:

• Over 1,200 youth from our target population have visited Hopeworks.
• Trainees have gone on to get jobs, attend college, and earn GEDs.
• Under the direction of our full-time Web site project director, our trainees have developed Web sites for more than 400 paying clients, mainly local, national, and international small businesses and non-profit organizations.
• Our GIS business has served more than 60 clients, producing parcel maps, digitizing land use information, and creating online mapping functionality with Google Maps.
• We have developed lasting partnerships with dozens of different organizations (a mix of governmental, commercial, and faith-based organizations) that help us to accomplish our mission.”

While the word “Hope” is clearly prominent in their organization’s name, it’s Executive Director knows that “Hope” isn’t empty rhetoric.

In a letter he has posted on his organization’s website Executive Director Dan Rhoton writes, “Hope is not a feeling, and hope is not a perspective. At Hopeworks, we know that hope is an act — an act of working towards a better future.”

And, it is working!

According to outcomes from June 1, 2016 through June 30, 2017 Hopeworks ‘N Camden helped:

–       55 youth finish training

–       59 youth earning a job

–       Over $332,000 in youth wages and stipends

–       285 college credits earned

–       Average reading grain of 2.0 grade levels

–       Average applied math gain of 2.38 grade levels

I have long believed that the world we live in today is better than at any time in the history of humanity.

It’s not perfect.  For those who it is not perfect it can be a cold and unwelcoming place.

Yet, there is no shortage of good people and organizations doing good works to help those who need an opportunity – a helping hand – a lift up to the next step of the ladder of opportunity.

Hopeworks ‘N Camden is one of those good organizations, filled with good people, doing important work to give young men and women a window of opportunity for a better future.

While I am not completely happy to be wearing the colors and logo of the Eagles this week while my state hosts Super Bowl LII I am proud to have lost a bet to an organization that is doing important work to make the lives of others better.

Fly, Eagles, Fly!

Fly, Hopeworks ‘N Camden, Fly!

 

 

I have writer’s block. 

Now, those of you who ever read anything I write are likely to find solace in my inability to process thought long enough to transfer it to a piece of paper – or, as the case may be, a word document.

But to someone whose entire life has been built around the power of words and communication I often find these cycles to be terrifying.

Like right now.

It’s not that I don’t have anything I want to say, or write, it’s that I have found myself in one of those awful ruts that frustrate me and challenge me to find a way out of it.

My brain, not the smartest one on Earth, has generally served me fairly well over the years. 

It has given me enough talent, and no more than enough, to formulate thoughts and ideas and convey them through words.

I don’t have many skills in life.

I’m one of those people who is in very big trouble when the robots take over.

There is no such thing as “simple math” to me.  It’s all hard.

Yes, I can add, subtract, divide and multiply.

But, get beyond that if you need me to plan your return to Earth trajectory from space I am afraid you are going to be staying there for a long, long while.

As in forever!

I’m not a terribly good athlete, I don’t have the intellect to comprehend complex formulas and theories about anything and I can only put IKEA furniture together because of stubborn tenacity.

So, when I can’t write something about anything I fear my minimal talents are failing me.

For you, that may be good.

For me, that is most definitely bad.

I thrive on thinking about things.  I love turning things over in my mind over and over again.  I am fascinated by human beings and how we work and function and what we do in life.

For me, words on paper are my brains way of releasing the pressure of all of that which is going on in my head.

Right now, there is a lot going on in my head.  Perhaps too much.

Maybe that is the problem I am having right now with my writer’s block.

I want to write about the power of young people after having the privilege to work with many parents in planning and producing the NSCC Twin Cities Squadron Sea Cadet Ball.

The confidence I have in the future of this country after seeing so many young men and women who take pride in their country, themselves, their duty and their Squadron.

Or the awe I have for a young filmmaker named Alec Bircher of Bircher Films who can walk into a room with a video camera and walk out of it creating beautiful art that compels you to watch it.

I’m thinking about the person who won Super Bowl Tickets from Spare Key who is about to do something remarkable and gracious that will make a difference in the lives of many others.

I am reflecting on a person I met on Necker Island who is building a company, creating jobs and futures for others, who stepped forward to help bring two non-profits together to create synergy to help even more people through his energy and passion.

I have stuff in my head from my 24 hours on the roof of Anchor Paper.  The kind heart of its CEO Brooke Lee who humors me when I call her up and say, “Hey, I have a crazy idea!” and doesn’t hang up the phone.

I’m sure she should.

There’s the phone call I got from an old friend from my days working for Mayor Norm Coleman while I was on the roof, sharing stories of blowing Titanic Whistles and how in our day we “…. got things done.”

Always at the front of my mind is the never-ending pride and amazement I want to write about and share about my kids.  Whose kind hearts, thirst for knowledge and sense of humor graces my life every single day.

My thoughts never wander far from the people I work with at Spare Key who do the work of 20 people because they believe in it and because it makes a difference.  And, my Board of Directors who tolerate my long emails before our Groove Gala pleading with them to do more and faster and now to reach our goals.

Far less interesting to anyone is my satisfaction of seeing almost 12 inches of snow fall outside my home and the fact that after a year my snow blower, although hesitant at first, started and allowed me to clean my sidewalks.

I do have writers block.  But, it’s not because my life is lacking in rich texture and experiences and wonderful and complex people and fascinating ideas.

On the contrary. 

So, for now, and for a while, I think, I will enjoy the swirling mess inside my head. 

It will find its way out eventually. 

The end of the year before the beginning of the next one is always a period of mixed emotions for me.

I am always pretty happy that I am around to reflect on the past year and to anticipate the year ahead.

On the other hand, there are some years that I wish would stick around just a little bit longer.

This year is one of those years.

Yes, for those who define their life by the political events that occur across this country every single day I admit there are many of you who are only to happy to see the end of 2017.

For a long time, I have chosen not to let politics to any longer calibrate the state of my mental health – for good or bad.

I figured that after nearly 35 years of allowing it to do so that I earned the right to let somebody else carry the baggage and burden of every political event of the day defining the mood of their life.

2017 was, by all measures, a pretty remarkable year.

As a family, we had some fantastic experiences, adventures and successes.

Both son and daughter continued their journey towards adulthood in fashion that suits both of them, their personality and demeanor.

Our dog, while still not liking anybody who doesn’t live inside our house, has grown more plump and anchored to our daily lives.

And, the parents to our children are beginning to think more and more about what life will look like when they decide our services are no longer needed in their lives.

Spare Key and the Team that leads it, both the staff and the Board of Directors, experienced an amazing year as we celebrated the organizations 20^th Anniversary.  At our last Board Meeting we began preparing for the opportunities, and challenges, for the next 20 years of helping families “Bounce and not Break.”

I gained the privilege of volunteering with the Naval Sea Cadets program and do what I can to support the organization and yet stay out of the way of my own Sea Cadet who has blossomed and flourished in this wonderful program for young men and women.

I also have been rewarded with a year-end Christmas Gift from my wife to enjoy one of the last evenings of 2017 with my daughter doing one of the things we enjoy most – cooking – at Kitchen Window to bring 2017 to a close.

And, after 40 years of not having a tooth in my upper right-hand side of my mouth I finally had a bridge implanted.

Life is perfectly imperfect. 

Mary-Helen’s car isn’t working.  The dishwasher crashed yesterday.  And, the downstairs window has a leak that lets the cold air in because of the son and his friends using it as an escape hatch to protect themselves from our vicious dachshund/yellow labl/corgi mix dog upstairs.

I didn’t get in the shape I wanted to get in for 2017.  I had peaks and valleys.  Fits and starts.  And, there are days when I feel closer to 64 than 54.

We didn’t win the lottery.  The Packers had a woeful year.  Some good people I know left this world before their time.  My son likes the music of Hall and Oates.

I learned long ago that life isn’t what takes place on Facebook. 

It’s what goes on inside the four walls of your life.

Whether that’s your home.  Your office.  Or, inside your head.

You are only so happy and contented as you allow yourself to be.

There are, of course, limits to this thinking.

If you are poor, hungry, homeless, oppressed, alone, sick and without hope there is little that words of wisdom or motivational quotes will do to change your station in life.

Which is why after a great deal of thought I have decided to change my focus on this blog.

April 2015 was my first post on Mischellaneous.

Since then I have written and published 153 blog posts.

Those posts have ranged from posts about world events, politics, people, my life, my children, our dog and a host of public policy issues.

Yet, as 2017 has inched closer to its end I have realized my need to refocus my thoughts and energy about the world around me.

I’m weary and worn out writing about politics and the people in it.

I’m tired and disillusioned writing about what’s wrong in the world.  It brings me no hope or confidence in a better world ahead.

So, 2018 will be different.  I intend to focus my time and effort on writing about people who are making a positive difference in the world.  People you know about, and people you don’t know about.

I’m going to write about the things people are doing to help those who are poor, hungry, homeless, oppressed, alone, sick and without hope.

I’m going to focus on what you, and I, can do to make the world a better place.

And, I want your help, too.

Perhaps you are one of those people.  Perhaps you know of someone, or an organization or group, that is making a difference out there in big – and small – ways.

Let me help be a small part of bringing attention to what is being done to make this world we all inhabit something better for all of us.

You can email me at erichmische63@gmail.com if you have a suggestion or an idea about who or what should be shared with others and how they can be a part of making a positive difference in the world.

We all live on the same planet until we are gone from it.

The world we are told about, far too often, is one that sounds like it is falling apart.

I still believe the world we live in is a better world today than it has ever been.

Not for everyone.  But for a lot of us.

For those of us that it isn’t I want 2018 to be the year that I do something more than talk about them. 

I want to share stories of those who are doing something to make their life as good as it is for me, and you and others who have been fortunate to be able to count our blessings on more than one hand.

I want to give concrete pathways for all of us to be the difference we want to be in the world.

I hope you will help me.

We live in the greatest country in the world.

Period.

It is not perfect.

We have deep flaws.

Our nation’s history is complete with failures and outrages that we can never forget.

Still, as we continue to evolve into the nation we want to be there can be no doubt that we are still a nation where the vast majority of us want to be.

As we prepare to celebrate Thanksgiving Day in America I hope we can find a way to appreciate that being an American is more than a statement of where you live, were born or chose to become a citizen.

The country we live in – and what it is we want it to be – what it can be – is a reflection of our own values and what we are prepared to do to make it the best nation it can possibly be for everyone who is an American.

There’s no shortage of ways we can do that.

We have a voice.  All of us.  Some voices are louder than others.  Others find their voice in action rather than words.

Make America a better place by giving back in some way.

Volunteer.  Run for office.  Help someone be successful with their business.  Pick up trash.  Rake a neighbor’s yard.  Protest at a rally.  Write a letter to the editor.  Vote.  Don’t vote.

As each of us moves along our daily life in the United States it is easy to find the areas we want to be better and where we can criticize our country for not being better.

Sam Rayburn once said “Any jackass can kick down a barn, but it takes a good carpenter to build one.”

It was true before he said it, and it has been true every single day since he said it.

America needs fewer of us to kick down the barn and more of us willing to build one.

I am often struck by those in social media or those who I bump into along the way of life who wring their hands and proclaim “I want to make a difference but I don’t know how to do it.”

One thing is for certain:  You won’t make any difference just by saying you want to make a difference.

No person found a clean bed, a warm meal or a safe place to sleep because somebody said they wanted to make a difference.

Nobody earned the right to vote, the right to protest or the freedom to marry because a bunch of folks sat at the bar and talked about how much they wanted to do something but they just hadn’t figured out how to get around to doing it.

There’s not a single Facebook post or Tweet – no matter how clever, biting, sarcastic or vicious – that stopped a dictator, fed a starving baby or helped to prevent disease.

This Thanksgiving Day if you are having trouble finding some reason to be thankful and grateful for being an American I’d like you to think of a young 24-year old North Korean soldier named – Oh.

A young man so focused on seeking his freedom he literally made a choice between freedom or death in fleeing North Korea.

This video from CNN: http://www.cnn.com/2017/11/21/asia/north-korea-defector/index.htm should be required viewing in your home this Thanksgiving Day.

I cannot conceive being forced to remain in a nation that has become nothing more than a jail cell for doing nothing more than being born into it.

Think about that:  Your country is your jail cell.

My country is not my jail cell.

It is neither perfect or close to being perfect.

It is, though, a country I know that, time and time again, has found a way to rise above its mistakes to become a better place for Americans – and others around the world.

We have much to be thankful for in America.

We have much work to do to make America a better place.

I’m thankful for the opportunity to do so.

Last night, my son, Owen, sent me the picture that adorns this post.

This is my 17-year old son Owen who is a member of his school’s JROTC program, as well as the Naval Sea Cadet Corps Twin Cities Squadron 097.

Next week this same son and his father embark on a trip together to New Orleans for the International Symposium and Conference on World War II.

The same young man who seeks out knowledge and understanding about the history of his nation and the men and women who fought and died protecting it and its freedoms and liberties.

A young American who represents, along with millions of other young men and women like him, an unlimited potential to lead our great nation forward into the future.

Today is, of course, Veteran’s Day.

Those who are not familiar with it or its origins are invited to use any available search engine that exists on the internet.

Or, you may understand it by the fact you are reading this.  That you are in a warm home with electricity, running water and food on your table.

Perhaps you saw Veteran’s Day on the ballot you marked your choice for a candidate, or the letter to the editor you sent to the paper blistering a politician and the fact there was no knock on the door from the government imprisoning you for having done so.

Veteran’s Day can be seen in our schools where children are given the opportunity to learn and the road we can drive whatever car we choose to purchase.

It can be seen in the headstones of those Veterans who have gone before those who walk above the ground today having served our nation in ways we know and those we never will.

You may understand Veteran’s Day by the stores and shops you are in this weekend offering you the freedom to buy things at a discount even if you have no need for them and you simply want them because they bring you some level of joy or happiness.

Veteran’s Day can be heard on the radio in the sound of a crowd roaring its approval at a college football game or booing the umpire for blowing a call.

Veteran’s Day can be found at a hospital in the form of men and women who fought for our nation’s freedom and liberty and while we walk in its glory they lie on a bed from the wounds they suffered to give us that right and privilege.

Throughout our community you will find Veterans in our government, our businesses, our schools, our churches and our neighborhoods.

You will find our Veterans on the streets, as well.  Without homes.  Nearly 40,000 of them on any given night. 

Freezing. Hungry.  Sick.  Tired. 

And alone.

America has grown too willing to find heroes at our stadiums and ballparks to applaud but too complacent to find them in our streets to comfort and hold and welcome back to our community.

Veteran’s Day is today.

It can pass you by as you shop the aisle of your favorite store or enjoy the burger special at the pub down the street thanks to a sale in “honor” of Veterans Day.

Or, you can stop what you’re doing for just a minute or a second of this day.

If you cannot find a Veteran to thank then find a freedom or liberty he and she gave you that you value above all others.

Pray for it.  Express gratitude for it.  Honor it.

My son, like his sister, are my daily reminder of Veterans Day.

The warm bed they have, the food they eat, the roof over their head and the dog that seeks their attention and approval are not given to them without a cost to someone.

Somebody.  A Veteran.  Fought and served for the right of their Mom and Dad to have the ability to work to make a living and to have the choice on how to raise them to be the best people possible.

To be proud Americans.

Who recognize and honor those who walked in shoes I never did to defend a country and its freedom and my right to give them what they have today.

Look beyond the date on the calendar today to know it is Veteran’s Day.

Look at the life in front of you and know that today is a day you live because someone else made it so.

An American Veteran.

Mayor-elect Melvin Carter.

In January it will be less cumbersome to say when he is sworn in to become St. Paul, Minnesota’s next Mayor.

He will no longer be the elected.

He will be the inaugurated.

Mayor Melvin Carter.

In July of 2016, in this blog post http://mischellaneous.com/2016/07/14/st-pauls-next-mayor-not-another-white-guy I wrote:

“Since its incorporation in 1854 the City of St. Paul has had 54 Mayors.

All of them men.

All of them white.”

St. Paul’s 55^th Mayor will be Mayor Melvin Carter.

An African American man.

Thirty-eight years old. Husband.  Father.  4^th generation son and citizen of St. Paul.

Mayor.

I didn’t vote for Melvin Carter.  I voted for Pat Harris.

My vote for Pat Harris was not a vote against Melvin Carter.  Nor was it a vote against Tom Goldstein, Dai Thao or anyone else running for St. Paul Mayor.

The moment it was concluded that Melvin Carter was elected things changed.

Pat Harris may have been my candidate for Mayor.

Melvin Carter will now be my Mayor.

Mayor Melvin Carter.

Pat Harris, will continue to do great acts of mercy and compassion for this community and the world around him.  All those reasons I chose to support his candidacy have not been diminished simply because he did not win an election.

I have never been one to believe that when someone I did not support for public office is elected that they are not my elected representative in government.

Nor do I care to see those elected, even if they were elected without my vote, not be successful in their role in government.

Like the young African American President before him the young African American Mayor of St. Paul is going to enter office with great energy, enthusiasm and promise.

He is also going to enter that office with burdens that the previous 54 Mayors never had to deal with simply because of the color of his skin.

It is, wrong, of course, to burden this young, new Mayor with expectations and obligations and prejudices that have nothing to do with his ability to lead and everything to do with the color of his skin.

There will be those in this community who reject him outright because he is black.

That, of course, is also wrong.

I woke up Wednesday morning and proudly declared to my 17-year-old son and 15-year-old daughter that St. Paul had made history by electing its first African American Mayor.

Their reaction?

“Wow, that’s cool.”

Yes, it is cool.

It is also about time.

Even if I did not vote for Melvin Carter for Mayor.

The tides of change in American life and politics can move slowly, or quickly, depending on the moment in time in our history.

The election of Melvin Carter as Mayor took far too long, nearly 164 years too long, but I suspect the impact of Mayor Melvin Carter in St. Paul, and our country, will be felt far more quickly.

It is not my job, nor duty, to offer advice to Mayor-elect Melvin Carter on how to lead St. Paul forward.

He ran on his platform and he won on that platform.

He is surrounded by those who will do their best to help him succeed and others who he will turn to for counsel and wisdom throughout his four years as Mayor.

I pray they serve him well in the roles in supporting him and his efforts to lead St. Paul into the future.

As I often share with my children my time as a leader in government and politics is behind me.

At 54 years old I no longer represent the future.

At 38 years old Melvin Carter represents the future.

He is the reflection of the hopes and dreams of a new generation of St. Paul citizens.

My children among them.

While Melvin Carter may reflect the fulfilled hopes and dreams of generations before him he should not spend his time feeling obligated to their time or generation.

Their time, like my time, has passed.

The years have taken their toll on this 54-year-old mind and body.

The gray hair, the wrinkles and the thick waist join with creaky joints, memory lapses and blurry eyesight to remind me that things change.

They always change.

In my lifetime I believe they have changed far more often for the better

Sometimes the change for the better happened overnight.

Sometimes it takes 54 years.

Melvin Carter.

St. Paul’s Mayor.

My Mayor.

In 2016 I read a story in the Star Tribune in which it was reported that there are hundreds of local offices in the state where there are either no candidates running, or no candidates to challenge incumbents.

http://www.startribune.com/help-wanted-at-city-hall-hundreds-of-local-offices-have-nobody-running-for-them/397196421/

Thinking this must be a new phenomenon I didn’t have to go very far back to find another Star Tribune article from 2014 reporting, essentially, the same concern:  Not enough people to run for open seats and fewer people willing to run and challenge incumbents for others.

http://www.startribune.com/wanted-more-people-willing-to-run-for-office-in-minnesota/282035981/

We live in a day and age where it is extremely easy to criticize, denigrate, threaten, pressure and otherwise humiliate and disrespect anyone.

We see it nearly every day from our President and his allies who use social media as a blunt instrument of political terror against anyone who disagrees with him or them on anything big or small.

Yet, the President didn’t invent this troubling form of intimidation – it is a by-product of social media.

Nor did the President invent attacking, in particular, politicians who disagree with his point of view on the world or the size of his hands or his huge memory.

Americans have been doing that since the beginning of time.

It’s easy to pick on politicians.  Sometimes they do some pretty stupid things.

It is almost an American pastime to complain about politicians.  I know that it isn’t something that is unique to America, either.

People around the world have had a historic disdain and dislike for politicians of nearly every kind. 

In my life I have worked with so many politicians I am now at a point that there are more of them than there are strands of hair on my head.

I’ve had the privilege of working with some amazing people.  Some horrible people.  And, some outright stupid people.

Yet, even the horrible and stupid people began the process of getting involved in politics and government for nearly all the same reason:  They wanted to make a difference in their world.

We live in a 24/7/365 world of where information has lost heft and gravitas and has simply become a steady diet of noise.

In that noise we are compelled to believe, despite the facts, that the world is coming apart and that at no time in history have things even been so bad.

The world isn’t coming apart and at no time in history have things ever been so good for more people on this planet.

It doesn’t mean that it is good enough or that it is good at all for more people on this planet.

What it does mean is that we need politicians who are committed to be a part of the solution to those challenges facing our world and capable of finding ways to take advantage of the opportunities to make the world a better place for everybody on the planet.

What is true about the news that exists out there in every form imaginable is that people are walking away from their institutions.  They are abandoning the notion that public office is an important part of public service.

There’s a lot of reasons why.

And, not enough room for me to articulate those reasons.

So, in these 48 hours before Tuesday’s elections let me simply say: “Thank you.”

·         Thank you to the men and women who put themselves out there as candidates for public office and those who are in public office.

·         Thank you for going door-to-door to introduce yourself to people who would rather talk to the IRS than talk to you.

·         Thank you for meeting with activists in your party who want you to do this and do that or not gain their support.

·         Thank you for having the courage to vote against what I care about even if you know it’s going to annoy, anger and frustrate me.

·         Thank you for voting what I care about even if you know it’s going to annoy, anger and frustrate someone else.

·         Thank you for taking the risk and making the sacrifice to do what far too many Americans are no longer willing to do.

·         Thank you for being in the arena.  For facing the fear of being criticized and judged and called every name that exists on a Google search on the internet.

·         Thank you for believing in your ability to make a difference in the world. 

·         Thank you for being an ordinary person willing to do extraordinary things for someone else.

·         Thank you for having an ego and thank you for having humility.

·         Thank you for going to debates and candidate forums that make you weary, for the late nights reading emails and letters and listening to your staff tell you why your neighbors think you’re a moron.

·         Thank you for missing family functions, straining to make your finances work and constituents who think you literally are at their beck and call any day or night.

·         Thank you for believing that you can make a difference for your family and for mine.

Thank you for believing in democracy.

Thank you for believing in your community.

Thank you for believing in America.

 

Three days from now St. Paul will elect a new Mayor.

In an unremarkable campaign there stands one remarkable candidate who should be our next Mayor.

Pat Harris.

I received a mailing last week from one of the candidates subtly attacking Pat Harris.

It was a boring, unsubstantial little piece and its “attack” was barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

• It belittled the corporate background and experience of Pat Harris by claiming it does not equate the leadership.
• Inconceivably it suggested that Pat Harris supports “band-aid” budget fixes that are not balanced.
• Ignorantly it implies that Harris’s bold proposal to provide a $100 million capital equity fund for minorities gives money to banks and somehow or another not resulting in business growth.
• Finally, it rejects Harris’s proposal for 50 more cops as doing nothing to make St. Paul neighborhoods safer.

The piece, by itself, was a bland attack on Harris.

Yet, it has been at the undercurrent of opposition by some “progressives” against Harris – accusing him, remarkably, of not being a “progressive” but some kind of Shadow Republican or Trojan Horse Norm Coleman.

I know Pat Harris.

I know a lot of Republicans and I know Norm Coleman.

Pat Harris is no Republican.

Pat Harris is no Norm Coleman.

Pat Harris is a leader who has built a lifetime of experience into a solid resume that St. Paul needs to lead our City forward into the next decade.

The United States just got done electing a person as our President who had no requisite skills to be the President.

Besides not having the temperament to be a leader, he lacked, and still lacks, the understanding that the role of the President is to be more than just a guy who tweets and makes promises and demands and stomps his feet when he doesn’t get what he wants.

An attack against Pat Harris because he has the background, the skills, the ideas and the experience and temperament to lead a City is, in a word:  Dumb.

I think I’ve been clear that Pat and I are not close friends.  We’ve known each other a long time.  I have seen Pat work, both in and out of government.

He gets things done.

A trait that we find in fewer and fewer of our elected officials each and every day.

My political leanings, despite what many may claim, are far more complex and complicated today than they have ever been in my life.

I find myself at my own ideological and philosophical crossroads today.

I am neither Democrat or Republican.

Neither Conservative or Liberal.

I guess I just “am.”

I don’t think Barack Obama was America’s best or worst President.

I think George W. Bush and George H.W. Bush, in the rear window of history, will be treated far more kindly than when the left office.

Amy Klobuchar has done a good job for Minnesota as a United States Senator and Al Franken has done a good job for Al Franken.

I think our current Mayor, in his 12 years in office, must be judged, by any measure, as a successful Mayor who has done many good things for St. Paul.

I clearly don’t agree with everything that he did and have opposed his Administration on any number of occasions.

I think the current City Council lacks enough independent thinkers.  I have enjoyed seeing Jane Prince emerge as one of those people on the City Council.

In the last few weeks Rebecca Noecker seems to have found the voice I know that many in the business community believed she might possess in being a counterweight to a governmental body that has become far too predictable in its opposition to business interests.

When I say I “am” I mean to say I am more interested in what a candidate for Office is capable of doing today than I am about what political party or ideology they hold – especially when it comes to being St. Paul’s next Mayor.

I respect new energy, fresh faces and different voices in government.  I believe our government – from top to bottom – has become stale from far, far too many elected officials staying in office far, far too long.

I didn’t use to believe in term limits.  I now support them completely and without distinction.

The direct mail piece reminded me again of why I support Pat Harris when I read this headline:  “This election, we’ve heard a lot of ideas.  And we know that ideas that are stuck in the past done work.”

Here’s an idea from the past that does work:  Experience matters.

Given the choice between new, fresh and different lacking the necessary skills and temperament and any evidence of their ability to lead beyond the words they utter in public and on a piece of campaign literature – or — someone whose lifetime of experience, service to community and accomplishment has built him into a proven leader with a record to back it up — I will go with the latter every single time over the former.

Bringing people together is easy.

Bringing people together who don’t agree with one another – more often than not – is not.

Even more difficult and daunting is bringing people together who don’t agree with one another to actually get something done.

More and more today that is increasingly impossible.

Which is, more and more today, and tomorrow, we need someone who can do just that.

That person is Pat Harris.

I hope you will vote for him.

 

I’ve known Pat Harris for nearly a quarter of a century.

I’m pretty sure we’ve annoyed one another for the better part of all those years.

It took me awhile to finally find my way to supporting Pat for Mayor this year.

It had nothing to do with his character, his passion for public service or his potential to be Saint Paul’s next great Mayor.

I felt that Pat wasn’t being bold enough in his campaign.  Not willing to take tough stands on the issues.

Far too conservative when it came to talking about the big ideas that a beautiful city like Saint Paul deserves.

Plus, he and I had a couple of conversations in which we both annoyed one another.

The benefit of being 54 and not 24 is that time, reflection and introspection can get the better of you.

In time I found myself supporting Pat for Mayor and, in doing so, believe I made a conscious decision to vote for someone who represents Saint Paul’s best chance to meet the next decade.

The events of the past week have not caused me to reconsider my decision.

On the contrary.

Pat’s response to these events have only strengthened my commitment to his candidacy for Mayor.

By not only disavowing, but condemning, a wrong-headed and stupid political action by a third-party organization Pat Harris made it clear the kind of leader he has been, and the kind of Mayor he will be.

There were no polls to guide him.  No finger in the wind.

There was conscience.  There was compassion.  There was civility.

And, there was anger, frustration and sadness.

Above all else, there was willful leadership from Pat Harris rejecting and repudiating political rhetoric and tactics that violated not just his commitment to conduct a campaign with dignity and respect but undermined comity and tolerance in our Capitol City.

I am no Pat Harris sycophant.

He and I are not close, personal friends.

If I were to describe our relationship I would liken it more to a collegial relationship in which we have worked together throughout the years on policy issues and, often, on service projects intended to serve others.

Over the years our hair has grown thinner, our stomachs a bit broader and our faces a lot more wrinkled.

Despite our rough moments over the years one thing has remained constant about how I see Pat Harris.

He is a man of character who has been raised to serve others with compassion and dignity.

There is nowhere enough space on this space to list the charitable organizations and causes that Pat has supported, lead or created throughout his life.

If you need proof then I invite you to look here: www.patharrisformayor.com/meetpat

Those who have benefited from his kindness are untold thousands throughout the country and yes, throughout the world.

The afflicted, downtrodden, wayward, lonely and hopeless have been held in the heart of Pat Harris.

When others turned away at the site of the homeless, dirty, hungry and unwashed of the street Pat Harris held out his hand to help.

When men and women were sent thousands of miles from home to serve us in countries far, far away from their families Pat Harris brought home to them.

Pat’s public service in government is simply a mirror reflection of his life in public service outside of government.

For someone who is decidedly center left I haven’t always agreed with Pat’s further left philosophy and policies.

My bull in a China shop approach to getting things done is not how Pat Harris gets things done.

But, we equally get things done.

I admire and respect people who get things done.

I admire and respect Pat Harris.

You won’t see me out on the street ringing the bell for Pat Harris.

In fact, you won’t see lawn signs in my yard supporting Pat Harris.

They were there.

But, Pat pissed me off on something and I told him to take down the signs.

He did.

Himself.

My 85-year-old Mother sent me an email a week or so after that and asked if Pat and I had made up and would I be putting his sign back up.

When I told her “No” she responded.  “You two are funny.”

In the past week Pat has, once again, demonstrated the character that I have always admired in him in responding to an issue that was not of his own making or choice.

He could have said that and remained quiet and silent in the midst of attacks by outside of his campaign by an organization that, by law, he could not communicate with, direct or control.

Or, he could have chosen to step forward and be loud and clear that he would not tolerate the intolerable.

His decision to do the latter and not the former is what defines Pat Harris.

Which is why his lawn signs are going back up in my yard.

Even if he still annoys me.