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With Arms Unbound

Photo of the author sitting on stairs, holding acoustic guitar in his lap.

Ten years ago, around this time, I put out my second novel, With Arms Unbound. I remember exactly where I was when I etched that final period onto the paper: Blackwater Correctional Facility. LeBron James was still playing for the Heat, Ryan Tannehill was the Dolphins QB, and Barack Obama was midway through his second term. The dominant question in my mind back then was Am I really a writer? I still feel that way now with eight books in the rearview. I have always considered myself an estranged musician who happened to write novels because I couldn’t get my hands on a guitar in prison. Check out what I wrote in the afterward of With Arms Unbound―

I was a songwriter before I was a book writer. Music has always consumed me. I held onto the bars of my crib and bounced to The Lawrence Welk Show. (Unfortunately, holding onto bars would become a theme in my life.) I danced with my father to Chuck Berry and Buddy Holly, wanted to be a rapper when I first heard Rakim, and fell in love with the guitar as a teenager in prison, back when prisons supported that type of thing.

Although the callouses on my fingertips faded years ago, I still consider myself an estranged musician and long for the curved and contoured feel of my old acoustic like the body of a distant lover.

But since I arrived in federal prison nine months ago, I’ve been playing the hell out of any guitar I can get my hands on. Including the one in the above pic. Not exactly a Martin, right? The neck is warped, the strings are nylon, and the tuning pegs are rusty. But I’m so grateful to be able to play again. And after almost 20 years of silence, my fingers surprisingly remember! Muscle memory. I’m actually better than I ever was. So now I’m writing songs about the characters in these books and the people who have wandered in and out of my life over the course of this beautiful journey. Can’t wait to sit at a booth at a downtown Pensacola book fair, boots kicked up on a table stacked with novels, playing songs about Izzy and Pharaoh and Rayla and CJ and Hustle and Miranda McGuire and this supposed punishment that turned out to be the greatest reward I could ever hope for.

Rock on my friends. Wishing you momentum.

—September 14, 2024

Photo of author standing with an acoustic guitar.

20 Years of Non-Fiction

Final installment of the “20 Years” series. I saved the best for last. The following ten books on mastery and self-discovery have been constant companions to me over the years. The discipline and daily practice of words on the page in my own novels might have saved my life and remapped the neuronal landscape of my fidgety brain, but it is these books that pointed the way forward and kept me on the path. If you feel adrift or unsatisfied or enslaved, crack open any of these masterworks and break on through to the other side. Wishing you big Momentum. Always.

  • The War of Art by Steven Pressfield—Mom saw this author on Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday a decade ago and sent me his book. I have probably read it 10 times over the last 10 years. I recently wrote Mr. Pressfield and told him what a massive impact War of Art has had on my life. I included a few of my books. Books that would not have been written were it not for this superb little manifesto on overcoming resistance. Last month he wrote me back! Big moment in my world.
  • The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer—My friend Chad left me this book when he transferred to another prison. One of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received. Not only do I force this book on all of my friends, it’s also woven into the plot of my upcoming novel, The Law of Momentum.
  • Atomic Habits by James Clear—When I stumbled and lost my way a few years ago, the day I turned shit around was the day I turned to the opening page of this book which had been sitting in my locker collecting dust for months. “You don’t rise to level of your goals, you fall to the level of your systems.”
  • Focus by Daniel Goleman—Maybe it’s because I’ve had a massive head injury, but I love learning about the brain. Most people cite Emotional Intelligence as Mr. Goleman’s magnum opus, but this is the one that started it all for me.
  • The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz—Toltec wisdom. Simple and elegant. Be impeccable with your word, don’t take anything personally, don’t make assumptions, and always do your best.
  • 10% Happier by Dan Harris—His live meltdown on Good Morning America is what started this fantastic journey. This book makes the case for meditation as a non-religious, mind-expanding, life-enriching practice.
  • As a Man Thinketh by James Allen—“A man’s mind may be likened to a garden, which may be intelligently cultivated or allowed to run wild. But whether cultivated or neglected, it must, and will, bring forth.”
  • A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle—Reading this one for the second time right now. The first time was in disciplinary confinement at Century Correctional Institution in 2009. After nine months in the hole, I came out weighing 132 pounds with bones jutting from my face, but I also came out with a better understanding of who I was (immaculate awareness, consciousness, the witness) and who I was not (the chatty, judgmental, and incessant voice in my head).
  • Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse—This is going to sound cliché, but this tiny book on one of the most gentle way-showers the world has ever known radically changed my life. If you’ve never read it and you’re a seeker, this is mandatory reading.
  • The Story of Philosophy by Will Durant—There was this dude who lived in the next bunk at Okaloosa who was constantly getting high. His grandfather, who clearly loved him, used to send him 3 or 4 books every month. But he was obviously too wasted to read. I bought this from him for a single ramen soup. Best money I ever spent. The book is probably 100 years old, but it’s a masterclass on everyone from Plato to Spinoza to Kant to Nietzsche to Russell and all philosophers in between. Not something to read on autopilot but if you’re interested in the subject, highly recommended.

The Law of Momentum: Part Three

Almost eight years ago, shortly after Donald Trump was elected to the White House, my friend Amy sent me a picture of a massive protest in Washington, D.C. A sea of humanity pumping clenched fists and picket signs flooded the streets of our nation’s capital to protest the incoming president in what was billed a Women’s March. There was a caption above the million strong throng that said something like “This Saturday, pussy grabs back!”

Nice zinger for sure, but the words proved to be empty. Fast forward a few years. Three Supreme Court justices and one landmark ruling later, Trump’s campaign promise to overturn Roe v. Wade became a reality. And those protesters, along with childless cat ladies everywhere, suffered a major setback.

To add insult to injury, the unthinkable happened in the 2024 Republican primaries. Despite the indictments, despite January 6, despite enough baggage to double the market value of Louis Vuitton, despite a clearly more competent and capable candidate in Nikki Haley—the 78-year-old Donald had somehow ascended back to the top of the GOP ticket with relative ease. Without a single debate. And he completely remade the party in his own image in the process. Pretty remarkable, all things considered.

Meanwhile across the aisle, Democrats appeared . . . befuddled. The women who attended the aforementioned march—along with millions of other Americans who had come of age during the last two election cycles—needed a champion. Someone to rally behind. But all they had was a fading 82-year-old politician. A decent man. A man of faith and character. But also, a man who fell off stationary bikes, confused Ukraine’s President Zelensky with his mortal enemy (“Ladies and gentlemen, Vladimir Putin!”), and a man whose cognitive decline was on full display in a June debate trouncing by Donald Trump.

For well over half the country, the outlook was extremely bleak. And for the handful of remaining centrists and independents, the choices were especially uninspiring. The bombastic megalograndiosity of Trump versus the meandering incoherence of Biden. Scorched earth versus fog and mist. Age 78 versus age 82 in an election that could be sponsored by Depend Adult Undergarments. A blunt sign in the front yard of a Tennessee woman summed up the national mood in a campaign slogan of her own: “Fuck ’em both 2024.”

Then bullets rained down on a MAGA rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, killing a firefighter dad, severely injuring two others, and grazing the ear of the former president, mere millimeters away from certain death. When the bloodied candidate arose, fist clenched, shouting “fight, fight!” with the American flag in the background, it felt like the election was a foregone conclusion. Especially when these images of strength were contrasted against an enfeebled Biden isolating in Rehoboth, Delaware, with covid. A couple days later, Trump arrived at the RNC to a hero’s welcome of thunderous applause. The subsequent polls showed him pulling away in battleground states. Even liberal strongholds like New Jersey and Virginia were suddenly in play. Everything was breaking in Trump’s favor . . . Until Biden announced that he would not be seeking a second term and endorsed Kamala Harris as president.

Cue the proverbial needle dragging across a Kid Rock record. Scratch.

Not since Obama 2008 have I seen so much energy and buzz surrounding a candidate. The party was suddenly back in the Democratic Party. This year the DNC eschewed many of normal celebrity speeches in favor of cops, mass shooting survivors, people who were defrauded and ripped off by Trump University, veterans, Republicans, childhood friends and family members of the candidate as well as people whose lives she affected as a San Francisco prosecutor and California Attorney General. There were also profound and moving speeches by Barack and Michelle Obama, Pete Buttigieg, Raphael Warnock, Adam Kinzinger, and Oprah; speeches that transcended party politics and cut to the truth of what this election is all about—who we are as a nation, what we stand for, what’s at stake . . . Then there was Tim Walz, her unlikely vice-presidential pick; a hunter, a 24-year National Guardsman, a former teacher and high school football coach. A midwestern everyman who shatters the myth that Republicans have the market cornered on masculinity.

But all this was preamble to the final speaker of the 2024 DNC, the Democratic candidate for president, Kamala Harris. She spoke about her mom and sister and the middle-class neighborhood that raised her, the lessons that were instilled in her as a child. Then she spoke about her time spent fighting for the people of California prosecuting murderers, rapists, child predators, fraudsters, drug traffickers. And her time as a U.S. senator where she continued to fight for her constituents. She also touched on the achievements of her current boss, Joe Biden, defending his record and honoring his 50+ years of service. But it was the policy part of her speech that I thought was truly magisterial, since the knock on her is that she’s all vibes and no substance . . .

Her immigration plan was simple; she would sign the same bipartisan bill that was set to pass six months ago but was blocked by Trump’s do-boys in the House because he did not want the issue solved before the election. Then she talked about her plan to keep growing the middle class, keep the current job market expanding, keep the world’s strongest economy moving in the right direction. She almost sounded like a Reagan Republican when she talked about having “the strongest and most lethal fighting force in the world,” about standing with our allies, about supporting Ukraine . . . And if there was any doubt about where she stood on Israel, her forceful declaration about that nation’s right to defend itself after the horrors of October 7 and America’s full commitment to “give Israel whatever it needs to defend itself against Iran and Iran-backed terrorists” was a burning spear thrust into the political sand. She also alluded to the 40,000 dead Palestinians and how securing a peace deal is paramount. Finally, she talked about women’s reproductive rights and signing a law to make Roe v. Wade the law of the land.

It was an epic and authentic finale that underscored and reiterated many of the themes raised throughout the four-day convention. On a personal note, I came away feeling hopeful, energized, and proud to be an American. Even in this prison cell where I sit writing this essay.

In part one of this “Law of Momentum” series, I forecasted a blowout loss for Democrats and recommended a full postmortem on a party that had lost its way. (I also referred to Kamala Harris as a “low-polling former prosecutor Vice President who disproportionately incarcerated the same demographic she would need to win.” Oops.) In part two, I reiterated the question, “Did Republicans peak to early?” After an uplifting and raucous DNC, buzzing with hope, that seems to be the case. But the election is still over two months away. I suspect there will be more twists and turns down the stretch. Including an upcoming debate that should have Super Bowl-level television ratings. Whatever happens, we are fortunate enough to have front row seats in the theater of history. These are fascinating times.

Wishing you momentum, my friends.

—August 25, 2024

20 Years of Memoir

“This is not a memoir. Memoirs are for chicks…”

I remember exactly where I was when I scribbled these words into my notebook, the first words of my third novel, On the Shoulders of Giants. It was early 2015 and I was at Blackwater River Correctional facility, commonly referred to as “Sweetwater” by the inmate population back then. Memoirs are for chicks. Not sure why I began the story of Izzy and Pharaoh and Scarlett this way. Probably because I was reading Eat Pray Love at the time, the quintessential chick book.

Sweetwater is nowhere near as sweet these days. I just had a buddy there get his face slashed from orbital bone to the corner of his mouth. A quiet, non-gang-affiliated, middle-aged black dude who minds his own business and respects everyone. They permanently disfigured this guy so they could take their time emptying the few soups he had in his locker while he was getting medical attention. Pathetic.

But I’m getting sidetracked here. I guess being so near the end of this long prison sentence has got me looking back. The point of this was to share the 10 best memoirs I’ve read over the last 20 years. So here we go…

  • Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert—Loaded with wisdom, humor, and spectacular writing. I know this book by heart. Even though it’s been a decade since I last read it, I can still vividly remember multiple passages: the soccer game, the paragraph on the word “harbor,” her description of the meditative experience… But her riff on the Oak and the Acorn was so profoundly instrumental in my own development that I quoted it in my own little hybrid memoir. Twice.
  • Corrections in Ink by Keri Blakinger—Possibly the best memoir I’ve ever read. Especially on the subjects of addiction and incarceration. Ms. Blakinger is fluent in both the Ivey league and the underworld, and her storytelling style is equal parts gritty and poetic. The world is fortunate that she tamed her demons and shook off her chains in time to tell this story.
  • The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama—I’ve read this one a couple times too. The former President wrote this well before his historic run to the White House in 2008. Although he has been dismissed as a “far left progressive” by those who would view him as the enemy no matter what he believed or wrote, this book is a meditation on pragmatism and moderation and working together. And a masterclass on how we arrived at this point in our nation’s history by a constitutional law scholar.
  • Whip Smart by Melissa Febos—I wrote an essay about Ms. Febos that is included in my own hybrid memoir, Letters to the Universe, called “Back to Work.” It focuses on a couple letters we exchanged when I was in solitary confinement in 2016. This book is her first, a memoir on the time she spent working as a dominatrix in a Manhattan dungeon.
  • Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott—A must for aspiring writers. One of the best books on the craft ever written.
  • The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls—And I thought my family was dysfunctional. I have sent this book to many of my incarcerated female friends at Lowell. This is one of my favorite books of all time, irrespective of genre. I’ve never seen the movie, but I know Woody Harrelson played the father.
  • On Writing by Stephen King—I came across many of my other favorite books by combing through his reading lists in the back. (The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, Life of Pi by Yann Martel, The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz.) Stephen King is a national treasure.
  • Wild by Cheryl Strayed—There is quote in this book that is foundational for me: “Life is the story that we tell ourselves in our heads…”
  • The Dirt by Motley Crue—I wasn’t really a fan of the band or their music when I picked this up. I mean, I was familiar with “Home Sweet Home” and “Wild Side” and “Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)”. After all, I am a child of the ’80s. But this book, with its bottle of Jack on the cover, is compulsively readable. Maybe the best rock memoir of all time.
  • We’re All Doing Time by Bo Lozoff—A book that changed my life. It is still free to prisoners from the Human Kindness Foundation. Bo and his wife Sita spent decades visiting death row and maximum-security units teaching men and women meditation and yoga. If you’ve ever read Consider the Dragonfly, you’ll remember it as the book that Smoke left CJ.

20 Years of Fiction

In a couple months I’ll hit a major milestone in my prison odyssey, the 20-year mark. That world out there has changed so much over the last two decades. I remember sitting in my cell, watching the news as Hurricane Katrina decimated New Orleans in 2005, thinking how I was just buying crack in a 9th Ward housing project a couple months before. If someone would’ve run up to me back then and said “Dude! There’s a hurricane coming!” my response would’ve been something like “And???” It’s crazy to call myself lucky after wasting so much of my life in prison, but I consider myself a very lucky man. Fortunate to have survived my own ignorance. Blessed to have transcended my old knucklehead self. Grateful to have a release date.

There is such a thing as criminal menopause. Most 50-year-old prisoners neither think nor act anything like the younger, more impulsive versions of ourselves. Years in isolation will do that to a man.

One misconception of institutional life is that it is nonstop danger and violence. Pure adrenaline. This has not been my experience. There are patches of turbulence, for sure. But for the most part, prison life is monotonous. This is why so many of us turn to books. As a character in my favorite David Mitchell novel once pointed out, “Though books are no true escape, they will keep a mind from scratching itself raw.”

The following is a collection of books that have kept me company over these last 20 years of incarceration. Not just any old books.  Masterworks. I selected ten in no particular order. Just the best of the best.

  • Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell—I almost gave up in part one. What a colossal mistake that would have been. This is one of those books I return to every few years. Gas.
  • Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr—I read his Pulitzer Prize-winning All the light We Cannot See first. Terrific novel. But this one is even better.
  • The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt—Not sure why I even picked this one up. But once I did, I could not put it down. Such memorable characters. Awesome book.
  • The Kingkiller Chronicle by Patrick Rothfuss—I keep hearing unconfirmed rumors that number three in this masterful series is finally out. I’m not a fantasy reader, but the story of Kvothe transcends genre.
  • I Know This Much is True by Wally Lamb—A novel about twins and schizophrenia. My friend Greg recommended this to me in B dorm at Okaloosa in 2017. I was on bunk check from the first page to the last. Instant classic.
  • A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin—Someone forced Game of Thrones on me at Century Correctional in 2007. I read the first couple pages and thought “Nah.” Again, I’m not a fantasy guy. But then we went on lockdown for a stabbing, and I was stuck in my cell with no one to keep me company but Bran and Arya and Jon Stark and the Lannisters. For the next 10 years, I was back and forth between the Florida Panhandle and Westeros.
  • The Nix by Nathan Hill—Brilliant writing. I’ve been thinking about this one a lot lately with the DNC convention coming up in Chicago. He nails the ’68 riots. But this is a love story at heart.
  • Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn—One of the greatest twists in modern fiction… I heard they made a movie out of it, but I’d be willing to bet that no director could do on the screen what Ms. Flynn does on the page.
  • The Mars Room by Rachel Kushner—I read this around the time I started writing the Miranda Rights series. The author illustrates the incarcerated mother’s regret and pain as if she herself was serving a life sentence.
  • Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace—A 1,000-page novel with hundreds of footnotes that require a separate bookmark. In the movie about this author, who sadly committed suicide a little over 15 years ago, he said that when the mailman dropped the advance copy on his porch it sounded like a bomb going off. Some of the most hilarious and tragic and brilliant writing I’ve ever come across. A difficult but highly rewarding read.

Anything is Possible

Dateline: Washington, D.C., Inauguration Day 2021.

As President Joe Biden looks out over the empty windswept National Mall and into the living rooms of 325 million Americans, pumping a message of healing and unity, the odds of his success—of America’s success—could not be longer.

Rahm Emanuel recently framed it like this: “Lincoln had the Civil War, Wilson had the pandemic, Roosevelt had the Depression, and LBJ had the civic unrest of the 1960s . . . Biden has all four.”

Sobering thought. And this is not even factoring in the bridge-mending that will have to be done with our allies, addressing our crumbling infrastructure, reigniting faith in our cratering institutions, negating the inroads that Putin and the Russians have made into our election system, improving health care, solving immigration, passing criminal justice reform, managing the opioid crisis . . .

And he must do it while navigating the smoke and noise of a sensationalist, hyperventilating media, as well as the conspiracy theorists, the Trump loyalists, the extreme wing of his own Democratic party, and the binary reality of modern American politics where one side needs the other to fail.

This will no doubt be an extremely tough task.

But he wanted it. He earned it. Fought through the field in a packed primary, survived one particularly brutal debate, an election night that dragged on for days, an iconoclastic incumbent who refused to accept defeat, and an attempted insurrection, all to arrive at this moment in history. Now here he is. Here we are. The question is: where are we going?

One of the many frustrating themes of the outgoing Trump regime was its disdain for the truth. They coined the phrase “alternative facts” from the jump, and it would become a cornerstone of the administration for the duration. In order for us to find our way out of the wilderness, the truth needs to be magnetic north on our national compass.

Here are some hard truths that President Biden and congressional members of both parties must come to terms with over these next pivotal years:

— Racism is a massive problem in this country, but no ethnicity has a monopoly on it. Double standards have become increasingly glaring in recent years and hate groups are using these as tools to recruit and indoctrinate America’s alienated youth. If we continue down this road of highlighting the skin color of bad cops and unarmed victims only when it suits a certain narrative, we’ll never disentangle ourselves from the baggage of our ancestors. We are Americans first. Black, white, brown, red, yellow, blue, whatever. Our histories and destinies are all entwined. And whenever any American kills another American, it’s a sad day for us as a people.

— Compromise needs to make a comeback. Special interest groups like Planned Parenthood and the NRA view any concession (the banning of third-trimester abortions, the banning of automatic assault rifles) as a slippery slope toward their own extinction. They use their money and influence to strong-arm senators into never giving an inch. This is no way to govern. The ability to work with those across the aisle is an asset, not a liability. We should demand it from our representatives.

— American isolationism is bad for us and bad for the world. Biden’s former boss said it best: “If moral claims are insufficient for us to act as a continent implodes, there are certainly instrumental reasons why the U.S. and its allies should care about failed states that don’t control their territories, can’t combat epidemics, and are numbed by civil war and atrocity. It was in such a state of lawlessness that the Taliban took hold of Afghanistan. It was in genocidal Sudan that bin Laden set up camp for several years. It’s in the misery of some unnamed slum that the next killer virus will emerge . . .” We are all connected. There’s a reason why we helped establish organizations like the U.N., the IAEA, and the WHO. Our failure to lead over the last four years has created a vacuum where China has made significant gains. Do we really want an authoritarian government setting the international tone?

Our nation is often referred to as a “democratic experiment.” And lately we’ve come dangerously close to having that experiment blow up in our faces. Free and fair elections, the peaceful transition of power, the right to assemble, free speech, due process . . . the very document that guarantees our liberty has come under attack. But we’re still here. Still kicking. Still the gold standard for freedom. “We hold these truths to be self-evident . . .” There’s a reason people brave shark-infested waters and coyotes and narcos and ICE cages and miles of desert to get here. Hope. Anything is possible in America.

So now the nation, and much of the world, looks to Mr. Biden to orchestrate our comeback. It starts today. And his success is our success. Can we pull it off? Again, the odds are long. But I wouldn’t bet against us.

—January 2021

Big Deal

Long ago, in a political galaxy far, far away, a young Barack Obama uncorked his first term presidential pen to sign the Affordable Care Act into law; an historic event made all the more memorable by his then vice president leaning forward and declaring into a hot mic, “This is a big fuckin’ deal man!”

That was my first time noticing Joe Biden. But as the years passed, I picked up little pieces of info in articles and interviews. His blue-collar upbringing, his stuttering problem as a child, the unimaginable tragedy of losing his first wife and daughter in a horrific car wreck, then losing his son Beau to cancer, and watching his other son Hunter succumb to addiction, sprinkle in a couple brain aneurisms along the way, and now this most recent very public decline… This is the human being behind the presidential seal. An American grandfather. An overcomer. The pride of Scranton, Pennsylvania.

It must have been extremely difficult for Joe to come to the conclusion that he was no longer the man for the job, to take the word of others when they told him he couldn’t win. After all, he’d been told this same thing for most of his life and had still risen to the most powerful office in the world.

Case in point: after serving two terms as Obama’s vice president, he was told not to run in 2016. His old boss supported Hillary that year . . . And the unthinkable happened—she lost to Donald Trump, a guy Biden went on to beat in 2020. And now in 2024 these same people are telling him he can’t win? I see why his initial reaction was “Watch me.”

In a more perfect world this elderly statesman, one of the last of his kind, would be treated with kindness by political opponents and allies alike as he makes his way through the last few months of a 50-year career in civil service. A farewell tour for an American legend. The 46th President of the United States.

With all the misinformation and political rhetoric of an election season, many of his administration’s triumphs have gone unnoticed. True enough, he gets an F on the southern border and an F on Afghanistan, but we dodged a recession that last year economists were saying was inevitable, our post-Covid economy is recovering faster than any other nation in the world, unemployment is at a record low, the stock market is hitting record highs, violent crime is down more than 20% from this time last year. Then there’s the Inflation Reduction Act that is simultaneously rebuilding the country’s crumbling infrastructure and the historic CHIPS Act that is designed to wrestle back the superconductor industry from overseas and stamp “Made in the USA” on the world’s microchips in the coming decade . . .

But Joe Biden’s greatest contribution to date might be his final contribution. Where his opponents would deny election results and stoke violence in efforts to cling to power, he released it in the best interest of democracy. We may be too close to see it right now. But somewhere down the winding road of history, some future historian might point to this very moment and describe it in Biden’s colorful language . . .

“This is a big fucking deal man!”

—July 21, 2024

The Law of Momentum: Part Two

Ah, momentum. Such a fickle and mercurial force. Just ask any athlete. Or anyone who gambles on sports.

One minute you’re rolling, racking up chunk yardage—rushing touchdowns, passing touchdowns, forced fumbles, pick-sixes; while across the field it looks like someone put Xanax in the Gatorade.

But then, just before halftime, the opposing team makes a goal line stand, followed by a kickoff return for a touchdown to begin the third quarter, followed by a bone-crunching sack on your QB resulting in a fumble deep in your own territory. Suddenly you look up and what once appeared to be a blowout is only a one possession game with ample time left on the clock.

What happened? Momentum shifted.

For almost a month, beginning with President Biden’s incoherent debate performance and all throughout the mounting pressure campaign from his party to give up the car keys, the Trump candidacy has been ringing up yardage and points, riding a wave of momentum that soared even higher in the aftermath of an assassination attempt and reached a thunderous crescendo during last week’s RNC.

But a couple hours ago, the news broke that President Biden announced he is bowing out of the game and turning over the football to Vice President Harris.

Enter the goal line stand . . . Or the Hail Mary.

Democrats now have a month to get their shit together and generate some momentum before their Chicago convention in August. For all his recent traction in the battleground states of Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin, Trump is still well within shouting distance. And despite a brilliant campaign being run by strategist Susie Wiles and company, he remains the most polarizing figure in politics. His kneejerk response to Biden’s announcement felt dickish and mean-spirited. A return to form. So much for recent spiritual awakenings. Maybe it’s just his competitive nature, but I think he missed an opportunity to show some good sportsmanship and wish a rapidly declining elderly statesman well. While moments like these may appeal to his base, they could alienate potential voters and further stall momentum.

Today, the race still appears to be Trump’s to lose. But the next 100 days just got interesting. Like I mentioned in “Law of Momentum: Part One,” with a little enthusiasm and a successful convention, a month from now we could be asking, “Did Republicans peak too early?”

We’re about to find out.

—July 21, 2024

The Law of Momentum: Part One

“Whoa…There is absolutely no way that the Republican Party can ever come back from this…”

These were my thoughts as I watched the hyperventilating news coverage of January 6th. In retrospect, I’m sure I said this with my arms crossed and a smug look on my face, casting sideways told-you-so glances at the other inmates in the dayroom. There are few things in this world as satisfying as being right—and the majority of these things are beyond the reach of prisoners. So, I was enjoying my little victory lap.

Of course, I was also thinking “this is a dark day for America” and “I can’t believe this happening here” yada yada . . . But mostly I was relishing the nationally televised unravelling while mentally waving bye-bye to the clown car of congressional sycophants and enablers that had started popping up in DC ever since the man Himself came down the escalator.

Fast forward three and one half years . . .

As the balloons fell over the Fiserv arena in Milwaukee and the final words of Donald Trump’s 90-minute speech echoed throughout America and the world; on a night that featured a black, female, lifelong Democrat school teacher from North Carolina, a powerful monologue from son Eric, a shot of adrenaline from Hulk Hogan, a fist-pumping performance from Detroit’s Kid Rock, and a testosterone-fueled introduction from the UFC’s Dana White; with the crowd on their feet cheering for their bandaged candidate, five days after an assassination attempt, projecting strength and calm, surrounded by his wife, children and grandchildren . . . The Republican Party looks anything but dead. On the contrary, they look unified.

Contrast those images—all the strength and momentum and clarity of message—against the disarray and dysfunction of the Democratic Party. Who’s their leader? A “well-meaning elderly gentleman with memory issues” currently offline with Covid, but even on his most lucid days, a man who has difficulty illustrating the successes of his administration? A low-polling, former prosecutor Vice President who made a career out of disproportionately incarcerating the same demographic she would need to win? A young and charismatic governor from one of the battleground states? At this point it feels like Democrats are already four touchdowns behind with only minutes left in the game. Is a quarterback change really going to help? Maybe. Theoretically, if they went into their August convention with a candidate who could generate enthusiasm, a month from now we could be asking, “Did Republicans peak too early?” But on the day after the RNC, that sure feels like a longshot. I’m not even certain Michelle Obama could win this election.

Personally, I’d let Biden go out on his own terms. I’d treat him with the honor and dignity and respect he deserves. Then after the inevitable blowout loss, I’d go back to the drawing board, do a full postmortem on a party that has lost its way and begin the rebuild project. With the average American as its cornerstone and a message of hope and prosperity as its polestar.

Seems like a daunting task with all the momentum flowing in the other direction. I’m sure the MAGA strategists were feeling the same way in the aftermath of January 6th with the subsequent raids and indictments and underwhelming midterms. But if the rise and fall—and rise and fall—and rise (with a clenched fist) of Donald Trump has taught us anything, it is this . . . In America, anything is possible.

—July 19, 2024

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