In the Strangest of Places there is Sometimes Truth to be Found

I've been wanting to post this for a while.  Not necessarily to share it, but more so that I can have it.  Some things are just worth keeping.

I am a big fan of the FX television series "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia".  It is an absurd, often times raunchy, off-beat show; a kind of "If the people in the TV show Friends were scumbags".  You can watch the whole series, as I have, via Hulu (and likely other streaming platforms).  You can learn more about the series HERE.

Towards the very end of the last episode, there was a scene that I was completely unprepared for; granted that there is a lot that comes out of left field when it comes to Always Sunny...think guns, drinking green paint, huffing, rum ham, crowtein, anything MyPoyles related, etc.  Yet what I saw in the scene, well, it actually meant a lot to me.  

By way of set-up, the character Charlie finally meets his actual father, who then dies.  Charlie goes on a quest to honor a tradition that involves taking his father's body to a certain place.  Here's the scene...

...I could have said most of those words about my own father.

Legacies are complicated things.  

I Have Questions...for my fellow Dads

The following has been attributed to Attorney General Pam Bondi:

 "If we prosecute everybody in the Epstein Files, the whole system will collapse" 

For the record, I can't find evidence that directly ties her to this comment though, and in fact it has been deemed in accurate by Snopes (attribution here:  https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/bondi-epstein-files-system-collapse/).

Yet this is where we are in that the quote seems entirely plausible, given the dynamics of life and politics in the United States of America right now.

Yes, this is a posting about the Epstein files.  Now, are some on the political left using the Epstein files as a tool to hammer the current presidential administration?  Sure.  This kind of stuff is as old as politics itself has existed.  But discussions like that ("...well the left...") are utterly meaningless in the larger sense of things in that, motivations aside, one simple fact remains:

Jeffrey Epstein ran a criminal enterprise that allowed rich and powerful people to sexually assault children and young women.

I will also add the following:

The United States government (and other world governments) has done virtually nothing to bring the folks that engaged in that abusing behavior...towards children and young women...to justice.  Why?  Because those same folks are rich and powerful.

Take a step back for a moment and consider just how utterly terrible all of this actually is; it is as if the plot for some horrible thriller has actually turned out to be real life.  Because it has.  

In particular, if you are a father of daughter(s), regardless of their age, I am wondering why you are not personally outraged at all of this; if you have been publicly silent* on this horribleness, why?  Because it doesn't directly impact you or your daughters?  When all is said and done, none of us are really above others by design.  Some folks achieve greatness in their lives, others live a quiet but good life.  Others are deeply flawed.  Regardless, we are all people.  If you are a parent (especially if you are a father of daughters), do you honestly believe that the lives of the children and young women victimized by Epstein and his rich/powerful friends really don't matter all that much?  Or are you afraid that the societal price for bringing to justice the rich/powerful people that engaged in this stuff will be too high?

To those last two questions, I offer the following quote, attributed to a labor lawyer (Attorney Ryan) I follow on social media:

"Anything that would be destroyed by the truth has no right to exist at all."

Citation HERE.  Ratcheting this up, we have the president publicly stating that he thinks the country has/should move on from this issue (citation HERE).  Well, I say that "getting on with something else" in the face of what we know now is a moral failure...second only to the fact the collective us took so long to recognize this whole thing in the first place. 

The "collective us" includes me, and I have been guilty.  Like many, when I first heard of Epstein and these allegations, my reaction was dismissive at what seemed like yet another in a series of Internet conspiracy theories running rampant on social media.  I claim not to be perfect, but I also know that I can learn.  And what I've learned about Epstein makes me wholeheartedly believe that our society as it stands now needs to fundamentally change, moving from the rotted belief that the life of some tech billionaire is so much more inherently important than the life of an innocent girl.  Any innocent girl.  Indifference is easy here, but if you are the father of at least one daughter, again, then would you allow your daughter to be sacrificed for the ego and pleasures of a billionaire?  

If your answer to that last question is "yes" or "I don't care", then you have no right to call yourself a parent, let alone a dad.

Moving forward, everyone who supported Epstein and his evil empire needs to be brought to justice.  All of them.  Every.  Single.  One.  For far too long, the cost of those crimes has been born by children; it's about time that the adults start to pay.  No matter what the cost, we fail to live up to the title of being civilized with every passing day when perpetrators go on about their lives while victims remain damaged.

Once some measure of justice begins to be actualized, then we have an even greater challenge ahead of us: How was it that this was allowed to happen in the first place?  Any system that allows this needs to be ritualistically burned.  It needs to be destroyed.  It needs to be fundamentally re-built in a way that recognizes the search for thrills among the rich and powerful is not more important than the very lives of children.  

We either start acting on what we say we value, or we allow ourselves to completely decay into the nothingness that we deserve for turning a blind eye to all this stuff in the first place.

SILENCE ENCOURAGES THE TORMENTOR

(*) As opposed to taking action, including contacting your elected representatives in the U.S. Senate and House of Representatives, to cite just one example.

When Grace Seems in Short Supply

It has, admittedly, been a rough couple of weeks.  This comes on the heels of a rough year (this posting).  Yet while I can (and sometimes do) complain about things, the reality is this:  There are bigger...and with apologies to English teachers everywhere*... "worser" things afoot.  

As I write this, the news is consumed by events in Minnesota.  Specifically...

Alex Pretti Shot and Killed by ICE Agents

...which is just a kind of punctuation mark in a larger story about control, violence and the desire of one man to retain political power for the rest of his life.  A story that is still being written and with an ending that can't come soon enough.  We know the ending already, by the way, in that his mortal coil will fail at some point, and the United States will be left to sort through the damage.  I suspect that I won't live to see how long that will truly take.  Maybe that's a good thing.

The last time I felt this way was during the events of 9.11, when it all just seemed so overwhelming.  This comes from a place inside of me whereby I can't really fathom an event, where it seems surreal in a very horrible way.  I do feel a certain degree of anxiety that is widely generalized, a kind of pall that falls over me where nothing I seem to do takes me out of my own head for any length of time.  I tried cleaning, which usually works, but that didn't help.  I'll do some work stuff later, which may help, but that's got its own set of issues.  Writing this is helping...a little bit...which I suppose is better than nothing.

I did try to divorce myself from the news and social media, but that didn't last long.  Like a moth attracted to a lamppost on a dark night, I feel drawn to the horribleness of this event.  It's like part of me is searching for a big revelation, but yet nothing is in the offing.  There is, instead, a kind of societal rot that has been creeping into the collective us, where part of the net product is trying to understand why our government is killing American citizens.  It's a kind of end to something that we once took for granted.

  

Let's just hope that some sense of Grace returns to this country.  We desperately need it.

(*) Including my oldest daughter, Katrina.

2025: A View from the Gutter

I am coming up, in about 4 months, to my 62nd rotation around the sun.  That's a lot of years, and I am both thankful and blessed to be here typing at this very moment (make that "moments", as this will no doubt get written in pieces).  There have been good years...such as any year when any of my daughters were born...and there have been bad years.  I think that, when all is said and done, the dust is settled, and the ink is dry, 2025 will turn out to be far more on the negative side of life's ledger (and not just for me).

While I don't talk about it much, losing my brother Joe was tough.  It's kind of like losing a part of your own body...a part where the loss doesn't physically harm you...but you still feel a tiny bit less complete.  It's also a realization that there is one fewer person on the planet who sort of understood things about our growing up, one less witness.  I've already told my brother Rich he's not allowed to die.

On the national front, I think we, as a nation, are suffering from a kind of chaos fatigue.  It's as if the current president is in a continual race to the bottom, except for the fact that there is no bottom to be reached.  We collectively just sit and watch while another cruel act is ordained, another late-night social media tirade is launched, and another group is maligned for no real reason other than being different.  The specific group doesn't matter by the way, as yesterday's Somali will be tomorrow's other marginalized group.  The fact that we have 3 more years of this is enough to make someone want to just crawl into a cave and wait it out.  In the end, and regardless of politics, no country or leader was "great" because of who they hated.  Let that one sink in for a bit.

Another loss in 2025 was that of my father-in-law, the Rev. David Rivers.  There are times when you meet people who are just so diametrically different than what you've experienced before in your life that you end up being changed in ways that can be equal parts subtle and yet profound.  That was David.  The world is now smaller, a bit less fun, and certainly not nearly as wise with him gone.  The only real consolation is the fact that some of his best traits are manifest in his children, especially his oldest daughter Christine.

As a relatively crappy year, I naturally decided to deal with a long-standing health issue, resulting in a late November surgery.  I am glad that it's over, but as I creep into my early 60's, I'm reminded that every machine wears over time...both the mechanical and physiological ones.  I need to take better care of my own machinery.  That's far easier said than done. 

On the professional front, I am at a sunset, if you will, of my working career.  That's equal parts relieving and terrifying.  I continue to push myself a bit too far, a point that others have made on more than one occasion.  I was raised, if you will, in a working world where there was a kind of constant competition.  That kind of ethos doesn't actually depend on specific circumstances...it just exists in whatever reality I work in...whether it makes sense or not.  Some things just don't come with an off switch.  Yet the lack of such an off switch meant that, in 2025, I did far, far less of the things outside of work that I enjoy, basically just hopping between stressful work assignments.  As I stare down the time off days I am losing, it's pretty clear that I have been far crueler to myself than I would ever tolerate in someone else.  None of the above is to claim that I don't find myself in a working environment that may be more demanding than it should be, but in the end, the only real resource and decision-making powers I actually have are over myself.

So goodbye 2025.  Don't let the door hit you in the tuchus on the way out.

As for 2026, the beauty of a new year is just that...it is new.  While I know I'll probably make mistakes (I/we always do) there is also promise and potential.  Here's to going into the new year a bit smarter for the wear, and a bit more kind...to ourselves and to each other.  I think our nation needs it, desperately.

(Fun facts:  This song paraphrases the quote reference in the title and the late Brigitte Bardot)

Glittering Prizes and Endless Compromises

I love the song "Spirit of Radio" by Rush.  

Mind you that this has nothing really to do with the posting, but that doesn't change the fact that it's a great song.

By way of actual intention, consider this to be something of an update of sorts to my last posting.  To that point, I can report that a week + from the surgery that I am pretty close to being back to normal, with a few exceptions noted.  These include the fact that I will continue to be under lifting restrictions for a while to come and not being able to wear pants that have a belt is something of a challenge. I can live with both, by the way, thanks in part to my having stocked up on sweat and parachute pants.  Ms. Rivers also continues to ground me in reality every time I propose to do something stupid.  Which is often.

In hindsight, this has been more difficult than I imagined.  While I expected some pain after the main event, it ended up being more significant than I thought.  Not unmanageable, by any stretch, but more than I expected.  I'm talking about three nights sleeping in a chair, uncomfortable as it was.  And I hate sleeping in a chair, for the record.  The Hillbilly Heroin prescribed for the first three nights (well enough to cover three nights...) was helpful, but doing even the most basic things was a chore.  Now, the baseline level of pain is more like a mild discomfort, and I more or less don't get the throbbing pain from strenuous acrobatic activities such as "getting up" and "standing".  As I told someone at work, it feels like I have been getting better at a rate of about 5% per day.

Ms. Rivers and I, both being older than younger, still remember a time when these types of things resulted in overnight hospital stays.  To be honest, and fully in hindsight, I don't know that being in a hospital overnight or longer would have sped up my recovery.  This is in part due to the fact that your average hospital is in fact one of the least restful places you can find yourself at any given time.  This is out of necessity, which I get, but while sleeping in a chair at home I don't have to hear a buzzer coming from another room (for example).  And the lights are off.  What the same day surgery thing does require is a bit of diligence and reading comprehension, which makes me wonder why it apparently is as successful as it appears to be, but who am I to argue with success?  I just know that I am a rule-follower by design, so if the instructions say "don't peel your wound-glue like Elmers off your finger tips" then I gladly obey.

Productivity is down.

I have not been nearly as productive as I would normally be, which seems equal parts realistic and a non-event to everyone but me.  Being a rule-follower (as noted above), I have been pretty good at not exceeding the lifting limit placed on me, although I also confess to actually weighing a few things to see if I could get it to slide under the limit.  This is an example in action of the guilt I feel at not always being able to do things, to pull my weight, if you will.  In the far, dark corners of my head I can hear my mother yelling about my just laying around.  In my case now though I would have Ms. Rivers yelling about my doing too much (she actually doesn't yell...she doesn't have to...but it is a kind of motivational equivalency).  

As to what I have been up to, well, I finished watching all 17 seasons of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia".  Great show, by the way.  

And yesterday I picked up leaves from the front of the house (all while not lifting more than 10 pounds).  And I've done some online shopping.  That's about it.  That's about enough as well.

Lastly, thank you to all who wished me well, checked in on me or otherwise sent good vibes my way.  Every word or comment has been deeply appreciated.  

"Useless, Useless"

Source:  HERE.

As I was in the recovery area at Geisinger Wyoming Valley surgery center, coming off 4+ hours under anesthesia, the first words out of my mouth, as I was looking at the IVs in both hands was "Useless, Useless".  Nurse Brittany, who was equal parts kind and exceptionally competent, wasn't sure what to make of it, other than to tell me "You still have them" (as in my hands, I think).

Edit:  I should have mentioned that I have no idea why, while waking up, I was thinking about John Wilkes Booth on his deathbed.  Welcome to my brain.

Note that going into surgery I just had one IV inserted.  In my preferred choice for such things, the top of my right hand.  Sure sign you are getting older:  You have a preferred IV location.  Anyway, I never got a good explanation as to why I ended up with two hands pierced, although it was clear that the second IV needle was about the size of something used for knitting, based on what I saw coming out and the pressure that needed to be applied to get the bleeding to stop.

Where does this all start?  Well one needs to go back to 2009 when I started to have some discomfort in my gut.  Over time said discomfort manifests itself in the form of a hernia, a type of which didn't require any immediate treatment (as noted by the passing of about 16 years).  My agreement with my doctors over the years was this would be treated if it caused me any problems.  Well, much like small squeaks in an older car eventually become loud squeaks, my gut issue got slowly worse over time.  While I could have tolerated the minor discomfort for longer, I also realized that I wasn't going to have an easier recovery from surgery if I waited longer, so I decided that this was the year.  Also not lost on me is the fact that I know two older people who waited too long to get hernias repaired.  Plans were made over the summer to do the deed on Wednesday, November 19th.

By the way, what I believed to be a single hernia ended up being three hernias.  Two of one type, the third being the largest and the original.

So yesterday was surgery day.  Everyone was prompt and the staff were exceptional, including my surgeon and the above-referenced Nurse Brittany.  Now I just need to heal and make some better life choices.  Fortunately, I have Ms. Rivers to help take care of me, which basically translates into preventing me from doing something stupid.  This is actually more time-consuming than one would think.

Speaking of healing, I am early into the process, so some on-going discomfort is to be expected.  By "discomfort" I mean something that ranges from a mild annoyance to it feeling like my abdomen is being used as Rocky's punching bag.  Not being able to cough is a bit of a drag as well.  

There are other gruesome details, but the point has been made.

This was, by the way, my 5th surgery (three as a child, one to fix my hand a few years ago and this).  Not having the need for a 6th would be pretty good in my book.

All things considered, I will be glad at some point in the not-too-distant future that I had this done now.  A sad fact of adulthood, as opposed to childhood, is that in the former, things almost never get better if you ignore them.  While I didn't ignore my little problem, well 3 little problems, now was the time.  I do have some time off from work, so I plan on not doing too much over the next few days.  Sometimes that's easier said than done, at least for me.

A final note:  As I was brought into the operating room, I saw the robotic device that was going to be intimate with my gut muscles.  My first question to the staff was "Do they call that the Hernia-nator 5000?"  I did get a laugh.  Speaking of laughter, that would hurt right about now, so I am going to quit while I am ahead.

AI and Discussions About Universal Basic Income

First, a brief explanatory video about what will really happen relative to the concept of Universal Basic Income as a remedy for AI created job losses.

Now, lest anyone think that I am simply fabricating this whole idea, I offer the following small sample...

Forbes:  AI and the Case for Universal Basic Income

Yahoo Finance:  Bill Gates Wants to Tax the Robots (to pay for universal basic income)

Bloomberg:  Sam Altman-Backed Group Completes Largest US Study on Basic Income

Wall Street Journal:  Tech Billionaires and Universal Basic Income

Fast Company:  Why Silicon Valley Loves Universal Basic Income

...and I could go on.

Here's the catch though:  This will never happen.  There will never be Universal Basic Income enacted in the United States.  Not now, not tomorrow, not 10 years from now.  Never.  Can anyone imagine any moderate or conservative politician in the United States, regardless of party affiliation, voting to support this?

I can't either.

So, why are these discussions being held if the outcome is more or less pre-ordained?

See the video, above.

Lucy represents big tech/business.

The football is Universal Basic Income.

Workers are Charlie Brown.

The underlying idea here is to propose Universal Basic Income as a means to get the average worker in the United States to not fear AI-created job losses.  Kind of a "Don't worry about losing your job to AI...we've got something in mind to help you out.  Now just keep working hard!".  Except for the fact that these same tech/business leaders know very well that Universal Basic Income is a non-starter.  The idea here is NOT to provide a solution for such job losses; rather the idea is to talk about something that will make people less concerned while AI actually does replace humans.  A small distraction is all that is needed here, as AI related job losses are not all going to happen at once; rather this will be something that evolves over the next few years.

As long as Lucy (big tech/business) holds out the football (Universal Basic Income), tech/business leaders hope that Charlie Brown (people doing work) will just keep running forward at breakneck speed.

Now could someone say, "Gee Steve, wasn't there fearmongering about job losses when the Internet became a thing"?  Sure, and that's fair commentary.  You can also look at household income in the United States over the Internet-era vs. GDP and see that it has not risen near as much as profits and productivity have during that same period.  This does point to a negative outcome, although the Internet is just one of many factors at play during this period. 

(source HERE)

To understand how AI will be different, well, you have to somewhat understand AI, which is beyond the scope of this posting.  What I will say is this: The ascension of AI will be more like the Industrial Revolution and than the advent of the Internet.  

Could I be wrong about all of the above?  Sure.  

But I'm not.

October 2025

I actually created this blog on October 27, 2008.  If you search by topic, you'll find that "October" is probably the most written topic in all these 2,189 published postings, although I have done a terrible job tagging said posts.  Bad blogger.  Anyway, personally and professionally, time and time again, October has consistently been probably the most challenging month of the year for me.  Yet I still welcome the month.  

Is this all about some weird version of the Stockholm Syndrome?  Have I been conditioned by October to admire it, despite reasons to the contrary?

No, I have a different theory: October has always been the month of change, be it for me or just the cycle of life stuff in general.  October has a way of being far different on its 1st day than its 31st, more dramatically so than any other month.  Be it going from 80's to 50's or thunderstorms to snow flurries, seasons pivot at October's whim.

Part of the pivot for me is the appreciation that summer has had its time in the spotlight, and I am personally tired of feeling broiled every time I do anything outside.  Granted that being cold doing anything outside is kind of a bummer as well, but for a few shining weeks, October offers a kind of mediation that makes time outside actually enjoyable.  

This year, October for me is at the forefront of some other changes that are coming not too far down the road.  I have a long-term physical issue that will be addressed via surgery next month, so there is work to be done to get ready for (as Fonzie once put it in an episode of Happy Days) "the rip out room".  Nothing life or death, but nevertheless very necessary.  Post that, I will be making some other changes with an eye towards improving my overall physical health.  

Another thing coming down the road is on the professional front, where I've already started to make some changes that will both help me on the physical front as well as help to improve the balance in my life.  That part of my life has been terribly out of balance for years now, which at the risk of repeating prior postings needs to change.  One thing that has changed?  I'm no longer doing the "coming in early and leaving when it's dark" thing.  

Lastly, and as I finish this posting, there are millions participating in No Kings Day protests across the nation.

Obviously, I am here writing this and not there protesting, but my hope is that this is yet another example of big change coming from October.  I will also note that, while I support this movement, I have yet to get a check from George Soros, I am not a member of Hamas or the mythical Antifa "organization", nor am I a Communist or an antisemite.  Instead, I am just a guy who wants a country where his children can grow old without fear of a far-reaching federal government bent on continuous revenge and intrusion into their lives, one that thinks nothing of dragging children out to be deported by masked men.

Here's to falling leaves and failing would-be dictators. 

Listed by Age

I had my annual business trip a few weeks ago, which by my prior travel standards is pretty lightweight stuff.  I specifically mean that, over the course of about 39 or so years in the workforce, only having to travel once a year is actually a bit of a refreshing change.  To digress for a moment, it's important to note the following from my personal perspective:

There is nothing good about business travel.  It involves a lot of running around, sometimes last-minute changes to arrangements, being "on" almost all the time, navigating different (and too much) food and having to be the buzzkill that doesn't drink alcohol.  

And I don't sleep well.  

I could go on, but the point is made.  Now I am exceptionally grateful for all of the opportunities I have had to travel on business.  In fact, the very first time I was ever on an airplane was a work trip for Prudential back in 1989. Over the years I got to see places as diverse as San Diego CA, Salt Lake City UT, Jackson MS, Minneapolis MN, etc.  I got to see a lot.  And at this stage, that's enough.

This particular business trip was something of an annual review meeting and planning session for the next year, held in Fort Worth, Texas.  I like Fort Worth, by the way, as it has a fairly laid-back feeling about it and the people have proven themselves to be exceptionally nice over the decades.  Why they elect folks like Rafael "I don't want to seem Hispanic" Cruz to the U.S. Senate is beyond me.  Side note, he doesn't need to learn Spanish for the Bad Bunny Superbowl halftime show because he already speaks it (just don't tell anyone, as it's a secret...I am kidding...he once got into a Spanish argument with Marco Rubio, which was very entertaining).

The meetings went well.  In attendance was the leadership team for my work group, and I was glad to be a mere participant, although I ran a part of the meeting that focused on talent.  My co-workers are good folks from across the country (coming into Fort Worth from Chicago, San Diego, Grand Rapids MI, Houston, and of course Northeastern PA).  Things moved along rather nicely.  Among my jobs during the meeting was to be what I'll call the "Slide Monkey", a.k.a. the person who got to show and navigate PowerPoint presentations for others.  

Now to the "Listed by Age" part.

Between presentations, for whatever reason, we had a brief discussion about how old everyone was, as in "Who here thinks they are the oldest in the room?".  Honestly, it was no contest.  I was the oldest, by about 10 years.  Thankfully, either by honest reaction or mere pity, one of my peers was surprised at my age.  Now I get the fact that such things may make HR folks* cringe, but as I noted before, my co-workers are good folks, so I wasn't too bothered by it.  Key word there being "too".

It was later that day when the whole age discussion became part of a nexus of things happening in my life related to career, next steps, purpose, etc.  It was a kind of cosmic breadcrumb leading me down a path.  

As the week continued, I felt even more aware of my age, in a way that has never really occurred to me before. And this isn't because of health challenges that I (and others who are getting up in years) face, but rather it really was more of an attitude/awareness kind of thing.  For one of the first times in my life, I actually felt old.

I own the above, for the record.  It doesn't make me sad.  I have no thoughts of dirt napping.  I don't feel washed-up, out of touch or some kind of technological Luddite.  I felt differentiated in a way, and it was okay.

Finally, and only quasi-related to the above, during the offsite the team had a rather brisk discussion about the use of AI tools such as Chat GPT.  Surprisingly, it was not the old people (*cough* me) that were the most adverse to it.  I respected the opinions shared, although it's very, very clear that, at this juncture, if you are in the business world, you need to be comfortable using these kinds of tools.  To end this post, I will share a few thoughts about AI...

• It's just another tool
• Unfortunately, it can be an excuse for people to effectively outsource sincerity when it comes to written interactions with others
• In creative endeavors, it is effectively intellectual property theft (see the "No AI Training" disclaimer of this site)

I don't worry about the businesspeople out there when it comes to AI...they will learn to use it.  Instead I worry about grade school kids not learning how to string original thoughts together using the written word.  This will not serve anyone's interest.

(*) By way of disclosure, I have a Master of Science degree in Human Resources from Villanova University and I am a Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM) Senior Certified Professional.

The Reverend David Rivers

Very recently, my father-in-law, Rev. David Rivers, passed away after a long illness.  You can read his obituary HERE.

Smarter and more eloquent folks than I will write better remembrances of David, so I'm not even going to try to be anything other than simple and honest.  Here goes.

I remember vividly the very first time I met Ms. Rivers' father:  It was a family gathering at Grotto Pizza, Harvey's Lake, around Christmas time.  This was my introduction to much of Ms. Rivers' family, and I was a bit unsure of things.  One of the reasons why...and I swear this is the absolute truth...was that I had never really met a Protestant clergy member before.  I literally didn't know what to expect.  Now in all fairness, Ms. Rivers did somewhat prepare me for the event, but there is only so much that can be done in situations like this.  Anyway, I entered Grotto Pizza, and one of the first people I met was David, who was in attendance with his brother Dick Rivers (a retired and well-regarded coal company attorney from Philadelphia).  Upon meeting me, the very first thing out of his mouth, along with his brother, was a Dolly Parton joke.  I kid you not.  They laughed, and I was mainly confused.  This was my introduction to Protestant clergy.  And to Ms. Rivers' family.

I love telling the above story, by the way.  

This is the part where I say that I was welcomed into the family, etc.  That is true, by the way.  Here's the thing about David though: More so than the vast majority of folks I've ever met, he was very smart, but equally unassuming.  Whatever I thought about how an Episcopal priest should be mattered not when it came to him.  On more than one occasion over the years he would ask me a question about something happening in "The Roman Church", requiring me to basically speak for all of Roman Catholicism.  This is, by the way, an almost frighteningly humorous position for me to be in.  Anyway, I didn't mind, because he would ask out of a genuine interest in the discussion.  There was never any semblance of being judged...there was only an honest interest in my opinion and the discussion to be had as a whole.  I've since come to regard the Episcopal Church as being a kind of home, with the Rev. David Rivers personally exemplified its very best.

In addition to being the "family Catholic" there were/are other differences that one would think could (but actually didn't) make me feel out of place in the Rivers family, including abstaining from alcohol, my limited choices in food...best described by many as "eating like a toddler"...my lack of interest in folk music, or the Phillies, etc.  But none of that ever seemed to matter with David, as he had a wonderful ability to see people and things in ways that transcended mere labels.  

Finally, I will note that, of all the Rivers siblings (daughters Christine, Julie, Diana and son John), I think my wife is the most like her father.  They have shared a similar temperament, a quiet sort of deep intelligence, and a strong sense of real-world morality.  Both represent the very definition of "good people", and my life has forever been changed for the better by knowing them.  While David is gone, his living legacy remains, carried forward wonderfully by all of his children, especially his oldest daughter Christine.

"The song is ended, but the melody lingers on" 

Irving Berlin