If I had to choose a moment in my own life that represents what I think it means to be an American, a moment in which I was proud of my country and what it stood for, it was when I returned from a month overseas to a crowded airport in Houston. I stood and gazed at the long lines in front of the customs booths, and my eyes welled up to see the variety of people, to hear the beautiful clamor of diverse languages, all welcome in this land.
Today, my eyes are filled with tears for another reason.
The Tabard Inn 
Fasten your seatbelts. It’s going to be a bumpy….4 years.
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