JACK'S WORLD

On August 20, 2024 at 8 pm, my grandson was born.

Jack Cornelius Shipley.

At roughly the same time, the second day of the 2024 Democratic National Convention was starting in Chicago.  

The convention's theme that night was "A Bold Vision for America's Future".

How timely.

For all of us, of course.

But especially for Jack.

If there are a group of people who, in the immortal words of Fleetwood Mac, "don't stop thinkin' about tomorrow", they are the Jacks of the world. 

For him on August 20, there were no yesterdays to remember, just unknown decades of tomorrows to experience. 

And so, for him, and for all the millions of newborns like him, any of today's  politics of the past will and can have no real meaning.   

By the time he is eligible to vote in 2042, many of today's leaders will be gone.  

If they have done their job, they will receive Jack's blessing.

If not, they will deserve his contempt.

So, for all you politicians out there, and especially for all my friends in the Democratic Party, many of whom are now in Chicago ready to send Kamala Harris and Tim Walz into battle, here's today's question:

WDJW

What does Jack want?

I held him yesterday as his mom and dad ate their dinner. 

Here's what he told me:

I want a world where the people I rely on know what they are doing. 

So far, so good.

For the last day (well, for three quarters of it as I am not yet a day old), I have been with people who love me and a whole village (she was right about that, you know) ready to raise me. 

I have been poked and prodded, monitored and swaddled.

I have been pronounced cute (repeatedly by my mother), strong (repeatedly by my father) and healthy (repeatedly by the village). 

I want that to continue. 

I am ready to be me.  

I made that clear to my grandfather as he held me. 

Whenever I could free myself from the swaddle, I made a number of points. 

With my hands (part of me, on my mother's side, is Italian, so I know they were points).

I want to continue to make points.

My own.

I haven't figured out what they will be yet. 

But they tell me my little brain will grow by leaps and bounds in the years ahead if . . .

Breakfast, lunch and dinner are edible; 

The air and water is breathable and potable; 

Vaccines are available; 

Teachers are employable; 

And the villages are peaceful.

That's all on you.

If you do your job, I will get to have them.

Thoughts, that is.

My own.

Some may even change the world.

In the brief time I have been around, I've noticed I have company.

And I like that.

A lot.

I like touching people.

And being touched.

So I want others.

Mom and Dad and the Grandmas, and Chief and Poppa, and the aunts and uncles and cousins, of course.

But also . . .

The others I hear crying down the hall.

The others like me.

So I want them to be taken care of too.

That's on you too.

Maybe some of them don't have what I have.

Parents who love them.

Food to feed them.

Schools to teach them.

Hospitals to treat them.

Make sure they do.

My grandfather is leaving now. 

I told him to write all this down.

So you won't forget.

I'm counting on you.

Don't screw up.

Love,

Jack