So as Papa and I were on our way to his house after visiting Mimi in the hospital, yesterday, he was talking politics. It was something of a marvel to him that the front runner and the person with the second largest number of votes in the Iowa caucuses were separated by only 8 votes. I then mentioned that the only candidate that I had met in person was the one who was just 8 votes off the lead.
It was 1990, when Rick was beginning his life in politics. I was serving Fox Chapel Presbyterian in suburban Pittsburgh. And as we do at Wekiva Presbyterian, here, we opened the church there as a poling place. From time to time, the sundry candidates would show up. One fine day, Rick did so and we had a warm handshake and a nice if brief conversation together. I have not met Mitt or Newt or Ron or Michelle or John or the other Rick, nor have I met our current President, but I can say that I have met the former senator from PA and found him to be personable in person.
Now, having met someone who is in the national eye, I had also noticed something when he was visiting every county in Iowa--and that is, what he chose to wear on the campaign trail. And that it is very much like what I tend to wear on a normal workday here at Wekiva. That is, the sweater vest.
This morning, I noted that someone has picked up on the same thing. Megan Gibson has a piece in today's Time titled: "Santorum’s Sweater Vests: The Unsung Heroes of His Campaign"!
I am not making this up. You can read it here: Rick's Secret Weapon
I am careful not to make political statements, knowing that those who read this blog have a variety of points of view, politically speaking. And I recall that the only time I have mentioned an election in a sermon was the Presidential election in 2000, when I encouraged people, whatever their political persuasion, to vote, and said "By this time this coming Wednesday we will know who our new President will be!" Ha! I had not reckoned on Florida's Hanging Chads.
So, in noting that Rick has good fashion sense, I am not making a political statement. But I guess I have already made a fashion statement, of sartorial (err Santorial?) splendor, even if unwittingly!