I'm not a religious man, but I've been enthralled with that sermon since the day I saw it. I posted it on my blog four times. To the chagrin of my partner, I wandered around our house muttering, in a bad imitation of Lowery's Georgia accent, "Crazy things are happening." I woke her up at 5:30 a.m. on Election Day, woke my son, plugged my laptop into the speakers and played the sermon again while I got dressed. When I got home, I posted the clip on my blog again.
At the time Lowery made that speech, I was one of those skeptical African Americans who doubted Obama's national potential. I had always prided myself on being "good crazy," on being a little different. I didn't go to my senior prom; I boycotted my high school graduation. The moment I found writing, I dropped out of college, convinced that I'd discovered my vocation.
On any weekend, you can find me on the sidelines of a Little League football game, urging my young son to throw himself at some kid twice his size. On the evening of Election Day, I took him to tryouts for the local swim team and marveled as he backstroked his way through 14-foot-deep water. Only afterward did he tell me that he'd never swum in water that deep. He didn't make the cut, but I could care less. The boy was clearly "good crazy."
He takes after his Pops! I know a lot of you were voicing your opinion on the kid's prospects as the next Mark Spitz. He needs more lessons--and much bigger lungs. The swim team he tried out for was no joke. But he has no fear of water, which to me is the biggest part.