In an issue that often splits
generations, this guy was exactly in the middle.
He was old enough to know better,
late 50s, I'd say. His knit Bermudas were faded and ill-fitting, and the
t-shirt that hung over his bulging gut had a garish cartoon embarrassing
his alma mater. He wore flip-flops.
He looked as though he'd just
bounced off the riding mower and come into the house for a beer.
But that's not where I saw
him. I saw him returning from the altar rail where he had just received
Holy Communion. Slipping out the back door of the sanctuary with his family,
he may have been trying to beat the Sunday brunch crowd at Shadows, or
for an early tee-time. Or maybe he was hurrying
Easy button Return it to long suffering taxpayers including those who have paid huge tabs to educate other people's kids…