I’ve spoken to many groups, of varying sizes, about my book Founding Faith, but I’ve never been as nervous as I was this morning when I faced the toughest crowd — my son Gordon’s seventh grade class.
“Dad, whatever you do, DON’T try to tell jokes. No one will think they’re funny,” Gordon counseled.
Sage advice. Even my discussion of the 900 cows that collaborated on the Big Cheese that the Baptists sent to Thomas Jefferson fell flat.

“Can I tell the story about how James Madison wrote to George Washington about his hemorrhoids?”
“No!”
Geesh.. What could be more middle-school appropriate?
Despite being unable to use my best material, I got through it. Truth is, I cared more about my performance at this venue than any other promotion I’ve done.
At the end, Gor gave me a hug and said I did well.