While I freely admit that my political memory and experience do not equal that of many of the folks on these pages, I am quite sure the following statement rings true: No governor in modern Indiana history is laboring under more expectations than Mike Pence.
Last November, I received an e-mail from Indiana University asking me for input on a branding campaign for prospective students. Intentionally or not, the survey focused on creative elements for the School of Journalism.
Social media is a relatively new, inexorable term for many business and government leaders. Social media, they are told, is a game-changer and the conventional wisdom suggests that if you do not have a presence on Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn (and Google+, to be hipster-ironic), you are missing the boat.
Some call it flimflam or a thimblerig. It is probably most recognized as the old shell game. Regardless of its moniker, our city leaders are about to pull it on local taxpayers.
I didn’t want to write about guns. The subject is fraught with complications. If I thought the political commentary on Facebook was extreme during the election, it became downright ludicrous following the massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
The element of controversy that clogs political debate, embitters theologians and fosters ethnic bitterness is surely as familiar to us as Cain and Abel. King Solomon in 950 B.C. acknowledged its damage—and its danger—when he pleaded with his subjects, “Come then, let us reason together” (though, like many “well-meaners,” he was better in advising than complying).
They say bipartisanship is dead in Washington, D.C. They say a Democrat won’t buy a Republican a beer and a Republican won’t share a glass of Chardonnay with a Democrat.
When I first met Mike Pence back in the mid-1990s, he was working as a radio and TV talk show host in Indianapolis. I was a guest on his public affairs program many times and came to know the future governor as an affable and evenhanded host who made room for all points of view while clearly stating his own.
Some time before April 15, the Legislature must decide whether to accept a deal from the federal government to expand Medicaid coverage. It’s shaping up as one of two or three major calls our lawmakers must make.
National headlines recently reminded us of the benefits Indiana reaps for its economy by thoughtful attention to our system of justice.
As a society, we do everything we can to protect our children from harm and prepare them to live productive and successful lives.
I’ve been a regular visitor to Vladimir Putin’s Russia, and, when I was describing what troubled me most about the place to a wise foreign policy friend, he urged me to read the play “Three Sisters” by Chekhov.
Having survived the Supreme Court and the November elections, President Obama’s health care law now faces an even bigger hurdle: the reality of making it work.
Fifty years ago, the Marion County delegation to the Indiana House consisted of 12 men. Among them were Charles Bosma, Brian Bosma’s father; Jim Clark, Murray Clark’s father; and me.
I was out of town Dec. 14, when the Newtown, Conn., massacre took place and could only connect to my loved ones by phone. My fiancé wept uncontrollably: “I can’t imagine what it would be like to drop Mackie off at school, and never see him again,” she said, referring to our 2-year-old son.
Must every tragic mass shooting bring out the shrill ignorance of “gun control” advocates?
Walk any street in Jerusalem or other Israeli city and you will immediately note the presence of lots of school-age kids. They’re dressed for school, often holding hands as they wind their way through busy streets to various field-trip-type excursions.
"Is there any chance we can be there when you get the call?” I asked Dan Quayle on the morning he was chosen to be George Bush’s running mate.
Mitch Daniels has been the best thing to happen to the Hoosier state since Bobby Knight.
