My Sexagenarian Brother

I am the youngest of three baby-boomer brothers.    When we were growing up, the Smothers Brothers were popular, and we would occasionally joke about one of their routines in which the younger Tommy Smothers would lament to the older Dick, “Mom always liked you best!”   In our case, the mantle of “favored-one” fell not to my oldest brother Pete, but to the next in line, Nick.

In stark contrast to Tommy Smothers, we say this about Nick  with not even a hint of bitterness or jealousy.  It was simply a fact.  After all, what’s not to like?  Nick was always the best behaved and the most compliant.  He cleaned up after himself, did his chores, never left things half-done, and was always ready to serve his parents.  He was most likely the one who started the practice of serving our mother coffee and toast in bed on weekend mornings, which kind of obligated the rest of us the follow suit.  

Finding Hope in Babylon

I’ll cut to the chase by stating the obvious. I am deeply disappointed at the results of the election on November 6.  I find little or no comfort in any of the results.  Beyond disappointed, I am frightened.

I was just as frightened, albeit prayerfully hopeful, in the months preceding the election, as I watched our continually deteriorating and weakened nation losing its way.  Our economic woes, exacerbated by profligate spending of money we do not have, have us careening toward a fiscal cliff, yet we continue to speed pedal to the metal as if the laws of basic economics—or even basic math—did not exist.  Like the law of gravity, they are pretty non-negotiable.