I almost lost faith in Rand Paul. For awhile there, he seemed to be siding with the histrionic GOP establishment in the worst way, reaching his nadir, in my opinion, when he signed the famous letter to Iran. I started to wonder if Rand had gotten a taste for power and, like every other sitting politician on the national stage I can think of, was willing to do whatever it took to get and use that power. However, one nagging thought kept me from giving up on Rand: How could someone who was raised by Ron Paul, who had shared an apartment with him upon arriving in DC, be just another self-serving senator? I couldn’t imagine it. Just being exposed to Ron Paul from afar gives me the courage of my convictions, I couldn’t imagine that living with him, being his son, wouldn’t give a man enough courage for a lifetime. Fortunately, as Rand’s campaign unfolded, my faith was restored, and today, as he withdraws from the presidential race, I see him serving the greater purpose I had hoped he would.
Ron Paul spent many years shouting into the wind, or so it seemed. Possibly the best-ever Saturday Night Live skit
