First he came for Mexicans, and I spoke out.
Then he came for Muslims, and I spoke out.
As we sat in the courtroom waiting for jury selection, after listening to the eloquent and persuasive opening statements by the judge about democracy, our system of justice, what an honor –and yes, inconvenience – it is to serve on a jury, all those who’ve died on various battlefields from Gettysburg to Vietnam to Iraq so we could have this system that “not even England has,” it occurred to me that the only kind of case I would probably be disqualified from would be a drunk driving case.
Haven't put up a new song since January, so here's a one-take demo of one I wrote in about 15 minutes while getting ready to send my son off to college.
All it takes are some heartfelt words of encouragement to help someone rise above their inner voices of self-doubt to achieve their potential. I wouldn’t have pursued a deeper study of the art and science of yoga to become a teacher if Frank White hadn’t insisted I meet Ganga White and Tracey Rich, who then introduced me to myself as a teacher. I wouldn’t have written a play if David Kranes, Dave Chambers and Ed Gryska hadn’t read what I wrote about being raised in a trailer in Alaska and told me I should keep writing.