Ted Cruz at Liberty University...one week later

I waited almost a week to write this. I know I tend to be emotional and passionate and I realized immediately how seeing Senator Cruz’ speech at Liberty University had affected me. So I waited.

I waited as the press tried to create a diversionary tactic with the whole “The Student Body was force to listen” thing. (The student body is required to attend ALL convocation services…not just this one. The scheduled speaker was Gov. Terry McAuliffe…no staunch conservative by any means.)  They said he was rehearsed. If by rehearsed, you mean, “without teleprompters, and speaking from his heart and not from his handler’s cue cards” than I guess he was rehearsed.

I waited until the din had died down and life here at Liberty had returned to normal. Six weeks until Commencement, building projects, customers for me to serve, etc.

My daughter is spending the weekend with some church friends, and so I have time to do the thing I love. To write. So here goes. My take on Ted Cruz’ speech at Liberty University and how it impacted me.

I suppose there should be a brief summary for those new readers of my blogs. Much of what I have to say here isn't as impactful if you don’t know my back story. So here it is:

I spent ten years in the mortgage industry. The last one was the beginning of a nightmare. The industry collapsed and then the economy collapsed and being in the mortgage business was like riding in the bow of the Titanic when it hit the iceberg…I took the hardest hit.

I spent the next 6 years, first stumbling around punch-drunk at the loss of my career, then my home, and then my self-respect. I lived in my car for 4 ½ of those six years because a guy in his mid to late forties, with only two years of a pre-med degree, and who had spent the last ten years of his life in an industry that was now all but gone, isn't the first guy hired in a bad economy. I slept in my car and showered at the county rec center. I did odd jobs. I shivered in the dark some times and walked for hours when there was nowhere to go to escape the horrible, overwhelming sadness, and shame of being a homeless man. But I had three things that kept me going and would not let me quit. My daughter, and my Faith, and the work ethic that being the grandson of immigrants built in me. I completed my  Bachelor’s degree through my alma mater (Liberty University) and their online program. I pressure washed driveways and washed windows and even built a chicken coop to earn some money. I shivered in the dark in the winter and sweltered in the summer. There were days when I could not look at my own reflection as I passed a shop window. I had folks who I thought were my friends abandon me, and folks who I didn't realize were such good friends reach out when I was ready to give up and encourage me.

I was too stubborn to quit, partly because I have always risen to the top, through hard work, and mostly because I knew my daughter was watching, and I’d be damned if I’d let her see me live out my days beaten by this world. So I fought on.

Six years after losing my home, almost to the day, I moved my daughter and I into our first real place to live. She had been living with her mom until last May when we moved to Virginia and I went to work for Liberty. So I understand struggle and I appreciate hardship and hard work and determination.

That’s my frame of reference as I write this. You needed to know that if you hadn't already…

     So I sat in Convo as Senator Ted Cruz announced his candidacy for President. I guess the first thing that occurred to me was that here I was, at 51 years old, experiencing history. How many people can say they have ever been there when a candidate announced his Presidential intentions? Not many. I was experiencing history and I knew it. Whether I vote for Senator Cruz remains to be seen at this juncture. But being there was special, and I wish the kids who whined about being “forced” to sit through it would realize this.

Now…my thoughts on the speech.

I reiterate, I don’t know yet if I will vote for Cruz. But his speech moved me to tears on several occasions and here’s why…it was American.

I am the grandson of immigrants on both sides of my family. Three of my four grandparents were born in Europe and my maternal grandmother was born here not long after her parents arrived. I grew up with the stories and the legends and the ethic and the deep, abiding, intrinsic love for this country that comes from being reminded how very lucky…how blessed, we are to be here.

Blessed.

You aren't supposed to say that anymore. You aren’t supposed to attach God’s favor or blessing to this land anymore. Liberals have hated it for years and nowadays, even “evangelicals” shudder at it. It’s so enlightened to argue that God never had His hand on this country, or we were never favored by Providence. Our very history would refute that, but we have shrunk from it nonetheless. Now, to be clear, we are not “favored nation” like Israel was. God did not make some pact with our founding fathers. But we were, without question, begun by Christian men who desired a land where CHRISTIANITY would be the predominant religion and the effects of that Faith would permeate society. We were never to be a Theocracy, but rather an “Evangelistocracy,” (my own word) a land where the free practice of Christian beliefs would be protected in such a way that it would influence our society and our government for good.

For about 190 years or so, this worked well. Somewhere in the late 50’s we drifted from this faith and our society began to change for the worse. We lost sight of right and wrong, good and evil. We lost sight of ourselves.

We lost connection to those immigrant stories that made up the fabric from which this nation was sewn. Stories like my own grandfather who was born on the boat on the way from the Ukraine. Or my paternal grandfather who stole aboard a freighter out of Gaeta with a forged birth certificate that said he was 16 when he was, in fact, only 13. He landed in Chester, PA, Processed through customs, and worked for the railroads for a while. During WWI, he returned to Italy to fight for the Allies, because he was ineligible to fight for the US Army. He stole a locomotive once, during an encampment and got busted down. He returned after the war, learned the plumbing trade, and met my grandmother in Philadelphia, where she lived next door to a singer by the name of Mario Lanza, married her and had 14 kids.

Fourteen.

I have an Aunt who ran away to join the circus. Yeah…that really happened. I have an uncle who played Delco Rough Touch with Vince Papale. I have an uncle who can grow a car by planting a handful of screws and some motor oil…he has the greenest thumb on earth.

We have stories. Stories of struggle and lack and poverty. But also of victory, and hard work and success. We felt loss and tasted victory. Those stories got me through the darkest six years of my life. Not the government. Not a handout. Not section 8 housing and an EBT card. It was hard. I hurt. I wanted to quit. But I had stories that made up my heritage and I chose to live up to them.

Last Monday, Senator Cruz stood before our student body and told his stories. His immigrant dad who escaped Cuba to find only opportunity. No handouts. No entitlement programs…only opportunity. But he seized it and made something of himself.

Senator Cruz’ mom hails from the same town I grew up in after my mother married and we moved from Philadelphia. She too came from a large immigrant family in Wilmington, DE. When the norms of society were against her, she too seized the opportunities and made something for herself that defied what everyone likely expected of her.

Opportunities.

In that inspiring speech, I never once heard about handouts, buyouts, sellouts, or entitlements. I never heard about what we were owed by the government. Except to get out of our way and let us succeed on our own.

I heard a man who lived the way I lived. Who worked for what he got and when he couldn’t get it, he didn’t whine, cry, or sue anyone. He just worked a little harder until he could get it.

I heard a man embracing the ethic my grandparents held to. The ethic I hold to. My grandfather died at 77 years old, having just gotten down off a roof he was repairing for a customer. At 77.

Ted Cruz spoke about returning us to a time when your pride was a good thing. When having a dream was only part of the story…working for that dream was the other part. He spoke of an America where the government listens to us. Listens to us. A government that is busy giving away the candy store is too busy to listen. They are working from the assumption that they know better what we need than we do.

He spoke of secure borders. Now listen…I have immigrant blood. But we all came here legally, respecting the sovereign borders of the US and we went through the system the way we were supposed to. I grew up in a neighborhood made almost entirely of immigrants. I love that thread of our fabric. But I want it to be handled properly…or we lose it all.

Ted Cruz’ story reminded me of my own, in so many ways. Maybe that’s why I fought back tears so many times as he spoke. Underneath it all, I heard a man who loves this country deeply…as I do.

When I say I love this country, it’s only because there aren’t any other words to use to describe it. I love this country. I cry at the National Anthem. I salute the flag when I see it. I thank every soldier I ever come across. I reflect on Memorial Day and Independence Day. I love this country.

I love the opportunities she affords. I love that, regardless of what liberals say, if you want to succeed here, you can find a way. Ted Cruz gets it. He wants us to be that country again. He wants me to succeed. He determines a successful government not by how many citizens are dependent on it, but by how independent its citizens are from it.

I was inspired. Inspired because I heard at least one politician who still has a deep abiding love for this country burning in his heart. I’m sure Ted Cruz is not perfect. But to me, that one thing…that DNA level love for America…is enough to overcome any shortcomings. And I was inspired because after six years of hell, I have sometimes wondered if I made the right choice. If living the hard life was the right thing. If maybe I shouldn't have gotten a section 8 house, an EBT card, and an Obama-phone. Ted Cruz reminded me that I made the right choice in the hardship I endured. 

Whether he wins election or not, his speech renewed some hope in my own soul. Hope that there are some people out there who still love this land like I do. Like my grandparents did. Hopefully, like you, the reader, do.

God Bless America.

What if Ted Cruz was a Liberal...

It's just the way my humor works. Sadly...it's not that far off from the truth.

                                                        If Ted Cruz was a Liberal

24 hours after hearing Senator Ted Cruz and his amazingly inspirational speech at Liberty University, I wondered to myself how his entire life story would have looked had his dad been a raving liberal instead of a hard working conservative. Since humor is my strong suit…this will be fun.

***This is in no way endorsed by Ted Cruz and none of what is stated here came from the Senator.

                                      

“Thank you so much President Falwell…although I disagreed with your father on every single point he ever stood for. God / Allah / Buddha / Vishnu / Great Spirit / or none of the above, bless Liberty University! (wait for applause)

I am thrilled to join you today…at the largest Christian University in the world. But let me be clear that I am not endorsing Christianity over any other religion or atheism for that matter. There are many paths, brah. (laugh a little here)

Today I want to talk with you about the promise of America…

Imagine your parents when they were children. Your moms, your dads, your mom and dad, your single mom, your single dad…

Imagine a little girl, growing up in Wilmington, Delaware. During WWII. The daughter of an Irish / Italian Catholic family. Working class…her uncle ran numbers in Wilmington. But we can’t judge him…he simply had no opportunities, no free education, no government jobs. Of course he chose crime!

She grew up with dozens of cousins, because her mom was the second youngest of 17 kids. Now, if they hadn't been adherents to the fascist, dictatorial Catholic Church and all their impersonal rules, and if there had been decent women’s reproductive opportunities back then, maybe there would have only been two or three. But no! She was lost in the crowd because her parents were draconian and believed in that stupid “sanctity of life” thing.

She had a difficult father…a man that drank far too much and didn’t think women should be educated. If there had only been a decent DCS back then…or a divorce advocacy group, her mother could have left that tyrant and raised those babies in proper government housing! (wait for applause)

And yet this bright, pretty –not that that matters to her personal value as a human being- young lady…my mom Eleanor, graduated from Rice University with a degree in math. MATH! Stereotypes abounded already and she was forced into the teaching world! The evil conservatives wouldn’t abide her becoming a broadcaster or a welder. They tried to convince her that she didn't really want a math degree…but she was too brainwashed. 

Today, my mom would have spent seven of the best years of her life pursuing her female philosophy bachelor’s degree…but not back then.

She became a pioneering computer programmer in the 50’s and 60’s…but who knows what kind of wonderful beat poetry she might have written, had she not taken the “safe” route and gotten a math degree.

Imagine…a teenaged boy. Not much younger than many of you. He grew up in Cuba, at a time when the government –led by Bautista- was corrupt. He joined a revolution, as every teenager should at some point. He fought to overturn the evil dictator and bring about a glorious communist revolutionary utopia. He winds up in prison, beaten, abused. Eventually –much to my eternal shame- he grew disillusioned with communism, probably because of his lack of quality education and understanding. He flees to America.

Imagine the hope in his heart, because he had no idea what an evil system capitalism really is, as he rode that ferry across the Atlantic and arrived at Key West. From there he hopped a Greyhound bus to Austin, TX, where he hoped to align himself with other Hispanics who had ruthlessly been stripped of their native land by the evil Imperialistic USA.

He finds a job washing dishes for $.50 an hour…because they refused to allow the dishwashers to unionize...those horrible rats!

Imagine a young married couple. Living together in the 1970’s. They have no personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Not that it matters. They could have a relationship with Jesus or not…that’s their decision…their path. They have a little boy, and they’re both drinking far too much. Probably because they had no real job opportunities and not enough time for personal recreation and mental welfare. They didn’t really need Jesus…they needed affordable healthcare, shorter work days and longer weekends. But since they lived in the social restrictions of the day, they turned to “religion.” They “clung to their Bibles” as our beloved Leader says. But hey…they’re my mom and dad and I love ‘em...ya know?

When I was three…my father decided he need to self-explore and find himself. He grew restless with the family norms foisted upon him by the fascist religious right. Unhappy, he left us to experiment with single parenting, while he traveled to Houston and lived in a commune, and pioneered alternative energy. But then one of his coworkers – a Christian who could not stop proselytizing in the workplace and made my dad so uncomfortable with his relentless invitations- prevailed on my dad and he went to a Bible study. Because of his lack of education, and the pull of his old-fashioned upbringing, he embraced this “religion” and chose the path that was best for him. He became a “Christian.” (Although I believe we are all “Christians” if we simply do our best) My dad came back because of the emotional effect of his spiritual path. So I was raised in a two parent home. But I would have been JUST FINE in a single parent home, or a non-traditional home…let me be clear. (wait for applause)

Imagine a brainwashed little girl whose parents were missionaries, forcing their spiritual will on helpless, uneducated Africans. But I love her anyway and we got married. She’s a great mom to our two little daughters whom we co-parent in a home with no traditionally defined parenting roles.

Imagine a teenaged boy. The year he was to go off to college, his parents had to declare bankruptcy because the oil industry collapsed and his father’s business went under. That was me. It took years of psychological counseling, a lawsuit against my parents forcing them to help me pay for my college degree even though they had lost everything, (that was THEIR problem) and thankfully the availability of quota driven affirmative action grants. For 7 years…from my undergrad through law school…I was known as Chico Hernandez Esquella Rafael Jose Cruz. Junior.

I switched back to Ted after winning the senate seat.

I understand the hardship of completing your bachelor's degree in less than 6 years! I understand the disappointment of having to work a part time job writing “Impeach Reagan” on coffee cups at Starbucks and trying to engage customers in political diatribe!

Now imagine a new America! An America where the rich –as I determine what “rich” means- pay for everything! Where you ride to your government job on your government bicycle while your children attend government daycare as early as one month old! All for FREE! Imagine being a guest in the White House and enjoying Queso made with government cheese. The same government cheese enjoyed by every citizen of this great land. (wait for applause)

Now imagine an America where no longer does anyone have to go through a background check to become a citizen here. Imagine hundreds of thousands of, not “illegal aliens” but what they REALLY are… “Displaced future citizens” arriving on our shores in government cruise ships…or should we call them… “Cruz Ships?!” (wait for applause)

Imagine abortion so convenient, so private that a woman simply walks into a spa, and walks out, not only devoid of that pesky “blob of indeterminate matter”…but exfoliated, deep tissue massaged, and with hair and nails befitting someone who just made the toughest private decision she’ll ever make…often for the third or fourth time. (wait for applause)

Imagine healthcare expanded to include your groceries…because if you aren’t eating right you aren’t feeling right! (wait for applause)

Imagine free AUTO insurance for your solar powered smart car! (Wait for applause)

Imagine an America where in order to vote all you have to do is pass parts of a basic field sobriety test!

Imagine an America where only the police, the army, and the government have guns! (wait for applause)

Imagine an America where all religion is banned…because we can’t just go after the “bad ones!”

Imagine an America where the free TV, free internet, and free cell phones you get each month are chock full of helpful information from your beloved, benevolent government!

Imagine taxing those evil one percenters right into hell from whence they came! (wait for applause…this might take a while)

My friends…Imagine this with me. Stand with me…because I stand for nothing. And someone who stands for nothing, doesn’t stand against YOU! (wait for enormous applause!)

Thank you and may the deity of your personal choice...or nobody…bless America.