Dear America,
Today, I’m talking to you, the individual—not We the People. I have no real plan or agenda this time.
Do you ever think about your past? I do. In another part of this side business called Finch Fries Press, I’ve been assembling my Early Days Collection, which is really an excuse to polish up old writing for nostalgia’s sake. Maybe I’ll draw in a few readers. Who knows?
It was fun and heartwarming to be reminded of how deeply I cared about football and video games—and to see how belief and passion can obliterate doubt from the mind of a child. My college years, though, were decidedly less enjoyable to review.
I found some old journals. Most of the entries were written between 2007, when I turned 20, and 2014. As someone who hates listening to himself, let me tell you: It is painful to see how I processed things ten years or more ago. While my core beliefs were evident, my attitude about them and the world—as well as my skill and ability to think critically and calmly—was not then what it is now. And, in ten more years, I will likely feel the same about The CuRe All Letters. In ways, we are all fools plodding through life.
I often remind myself of a few famous words attributed to Theodore Roosevelt: “Comparison is the thief of joy.” (Thanks, TR.) At times like these in our nation’s history—unironically, turning points or crisis moments—it is difficult not to juxtapose my journey with that of someone like Charlie Kirk.
At the same age Charlie Kirk was building a global organization and changing the world, I was letting go of college football, drinking beer, playing video games, and attending classes. My defense is that “I did school very well” and was fortunate enough to be given a hand up into a great company by a lifelong leader, the late Russ Paulsen (Lt. Colonel, Retired, USMC). Other than getting divorced at the age of 25, work was everything. I’m not a ladder climber—I’m a hill climber. I like producing high quality work and accomplishing a mission, then moving on. That’s it.
Kirk found his calling and lived boldly. I found a career and made the most of it. Is one better?
At the same age Charlie Kirk was professing his faith in the den of anti-Christian worldviews, I was keeping mine quiet because it was a liability to my career. Hell, it was a liability to my first marriage and a decent-sized part of why it ended. I still had my faith—which, at this point, nothing will shake—but only in very cozy, safe instances with close friends would I ever speak about it.
Kirk knew his faith and proclaimed it. I held my faith close and hid in plain sight. One is better. One is safer.
At the same age Charlie Kirk was dying of a gunshot wound, I was lucky enough to be newly married and, in some ways, my life only beginning. I thank God for my wife, Jane. Who else could put up with me, a crazy bastard who sleeps four or five hours per night and is incurably grouchy when focused on a task (which is often)? She hates things like this, so I won’t overdo it. The point is: None of us are guaranteed anything in this life, and I have been especially blessed. It is time to give back.
Kirk has moved on, and I am here. I should do something worthwhile. Do you feel the same?
Like all of you, I am not Charlie Kirk. I am likely more flawed, more cautious, and less patient. I am not sure that I am a big enough person to reach out a hand to people who have just expressed hatred for me and my beliefs. My natural inclination is to, perhaps after some choice words, coldly step away and retreat to silence.
No, if his videos and life are the evidence, then I will never be as saintly as Kirk.
But I am tenacious. And I have some skills. You do, too! We all can bring something to the table.
In these past days—even before Charlie Kirk was murdered—I had begun to find my voice again. I credit fatherhood with compelling me to wade into the struggle for this nation’s heart. The same one that killed Kirk. As intelligent or experienced (or the inverse) as a man might be, he knows nothing until he has children—and understands he knows nothing ever after.
What, though, does a person really need to know other than God, Family, Country, and Virtue? Live well, not perfectly. Come what may…
I know this: I will trade future for future if necessary for the next generations, mine for theirs, even if they never know. It is their birthright and my honor so to do.
And I am motivated to usher in a new paradigm and begin a new chapter. Are you? Are We?
Everything always comes back to sports. I’m here saying, “Just put me in the game. I can make a difference. Just put me in.” (“Lord, let me Bobby Boucher and not Rudy, no offense to him.”)
In Christian terms, “Here Am I. Send me. As imperfect as I am, send me.”
What could be done through me?
I can write decently. I can speak in public. I am tenacious. I’ve had many roles and acquired skills. Business analysis; project, program, and portfolio management; business architecture; organization, leadership, and management…
What could be done through you? Through us?
For the future, together as individuals who share the mask of We the People, we can restore the American Culture, put the American System aright, and move our country forward. May we soon return to a timeline where the word “progress” means “forward movement towards a destination or goal” rather than “while at a standstill, the act of endlessly redefining the word ‘here’ so that the passengers remain distracted even though the scenery stays the same.”
Well, America… I’m going, whether you come along or not. Are you in?
Finch Fries