Change Agent in the Maelstrom

Change Agent in the Maelstrom

How an Oriental Rug Expert, a Christian Gentleman, and a Maryland Political Writer Ended Up on the Same Road as Lanny Budd

There are moments in life when you look back and realize the path you’ve walked makes more sense than you ever expected. At the time, it felt like improvisation — a series of turns, some sharp, some gentle, some chosen, some thrust upon you. But in hindsight, the line is straighter than you thought.

For me, that line runs through two unlikely worlds:

Oriental rugs and Maryland politics.

And somewhere in the middle of that improbable journey stands a fictional character who shaped my imagination more than I realized at the time: Lanny Budd, Upton Sinclair’s globe‑trotting art expert who stumbled into the salons of the powerful and ended up fighting the forces of evil with nothing but his wits, his conscience, and his access. I was only 15 yearsold when I bought Dragon’s teeth at a Chicago Publlic Library book sale but it changedmy life.

Lanny wasn’t a Christian. He wasn’t even particularly religious. He was a socialist who evolved into something more complicated over the course of twenty‑two novels. But what mattered to me wasn’t his ideology. It was his posture toward the world:

He dealt with the world in front of him. He didn’t run from it. He didn’t hide from it. He stepped into it.

And that, in its own way, is a deeply Christian instinct.

The Accidental Expert

I never set out to become an expert in Oriental rugs. It happened the way many things in life happen — one door opened, then another, and before long I was associate editor of Oriental Rug Review and writing for other magazines. That expertise became a passport. It brought me into rooms I never expected to enter, introduced me to people I never expected to meet, and taught me how culture works from the inside.

Lanny Budd had his paintings.

I had rugs.

Both of us learned that expertise is a key that opens doors you didn’t even know existed.

The Pivot

Then came 2013. I took what I still can’t decide was a sharp right turn or a sharp left turn, but it was sharp. I pivoted away from rugs and toward Maryland politics — not national politics, not global politics, just Maryland. One state. One ecosystem. One manageable corner of America where I could actually make a difference.

I’d been involved in politics since I was thirteen, but this was different. This was immersion. I wasn’t trying to influence the whole country. I wasn’t trying to save the world. I was trying to understand — and help improve — the place God put in front of me.

At first, people didn’t take me seriously. My posts were too glib, too short, too clever for their own good. I tried adding footnotes on Facebook, and Facebook rewarded me by suspending me. They meant well, but it wasn’t going to work.

Then I found Substack.

And everything changed.

That was the day I tod HW thatt he wa too liberl and I was support Paul Laxalt

The Growth

The long-form format let me stretch out, dig deeper, and write the way I’d always wanted to write. The audience grew. The credibility grew. The conversations grew. In the last sixty days alone, Facebook posts have drawn over 800,000 visits. Substack has passed 1,000 subscribers and keeps climbing. Reporters call me now — not to argue, but to share tips, compare notes, and ask about stories.

I even ended up on WHUR, which still surprises me.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped being the guy with the glib posts and became someone people take seriously. Not because I changed my beliefs, but because I finally found the right format to express them.

In needof a haircut.

The Christian Gentleman in the Storm

People sometimes ask why I mention prayer in my posts. Why I speak from a Christian perspective. Why I refer to atheists as “godless heathens and pagans” — always with a twinkle, never with malice. The truth is simple:

I’m not trying to convert anyone. I’m not trying to shame anyone. I’m not trying to win theological arguments.

I’m just letting people know who I am.

If someone wants to pray with me, wonderful.

If they don’t, that’s between them and God.

If they’re Muslim, Jewish, or something else entirely, I respect that.

I once lived with a witch, and she was a lovely woman. We’re still friends. She did her thing, I did mine, and neither of us felt the need to build walls.

That’s the part people often misunderstand about Christian engagement.

You don’t change the world by beating people over the head.

You change it by walking your path openly, honestly, and consistently — and letting people see the fruit for themselves.

If God wants someone to follow that path, He’ll let them know. That’s His job, not mine.

I call this my Mr. Friendly picture. It was my visa Pic when I worked for the GIROA Ministry of the Interior

The Maelstrom

Maryland politics is a maelstrom — swirling interests, clashing personalities, competing truths, and the occasional outright storm. But that’s where I feel called to be. Not because I enjoy the chaos, but because I believe Christians are meant to stand in the middle of the culture, not on the sidelines.

Salt only works when it’s in the stew.

Light only works when it’s in the darkness.

And truth only works when it’s spoken where it’s needed.

Lanny Budd walked into the storm because he had access, insight, and a conscience.

I walk into the storm because I have faith, experience, and a calling.

Different tools.

Same mission.

Same maelstrom.

In prayer I told God where you want me to go I will go. 3 momths lter I was on the bbeach in Iran in front of the Greek Freighter.

Why I Write

I write because I believe Maryland deserves clarity.

I write because I believe people deserve honesty.

I write because I believe institutions need accountability.

I write because I believe evil must be confronted — but never with hatred, never with cruelty, never with the weapons of the enemy.

I write because this is the world God put in front of me.

And like Lanny Budd, I intend to deal with it.