Found this deep archive hit today. Almost 30 years ago the Chronicle of Philanthropy profiled me for being a pioneer of the idea of using email for political organizing. Those spammy texts you get from ActBlue? It started here. #sorry #mybad sidebar: still wearing that same bracelet & belt. #neverchange.
Fell in with some questionable ladies down Mexico way. Worked out about like you would imagine. Maintaining our firm spring break rule: do the cheesy fun thing, and get the pitchur to remember it.
Love how Berkeley HS celebrates every kid’s achievements, but I’m hella biased about this one. She got what she wanted, super proud dad over here. UC Irvine, buckle up!
Today the fates chose love. ( stick with me, this is worth it). If you know me, you know I love California poppies. And sunlight. Equinox is a special day, when we transit to more the 12 hours of daylight. It coincides with the blooming of the poppies at the California state park in antelope valley set aside for them. When the week began I never imagined being here today. But Brian Dougherty died, and his car needed to get back to Palm Springs, so today I drove. His car turns out to be an equinox. Brian loved life. He loved people and the absurd. And he loved words and ideas. This week has been wrenching for so many, wrestling with the joy of their memories with him, and the cruel fate that took him away far too soon. So many have written so eloquently about the absurd and insightful moments they shared with him. His family is coming to understand just how many he touched and how many loved and appreciated him. His community is coming to see how much we have lost, and appreciate what we had. Everyone has a role to play in moments like this, and lessons to learn. Mine was to be open to service. And so when @chickenjohnrinaldi said drive, I drove. And in Brian’s equinox on this equinox I came to a sea of brilliant orange, and felt loss yes but also profound joy. Today for me the fates chose joy. I can’t wait to see you all again in person and make sure you know how much I love and appreciate you, and try to find a way to give you a gift that’s been a fraction of this moment. Grateful. And sad. And full of joy. Let the sun shine.