It’s taken me years to feel comfortable with all the surprises I am faced with on the spot. But I am, finally.
I left my hometown of New York City in the summer of 1986 and drove across the country to Seattle.
We weren’t invited, and neither was the public or any media outlet.
And that doesn’t sit particularly well with us.
How can I begin to answer my eighty-four year old friend’s question about what it means to be “true to my country” lately?