Ed Spivey Jr. was working as art director of the Chicago Sun-Times Sunday Magazine in 1974 when God called him to join the fledgling Sojourners community and work for its publication, then called the Post-American. The fact that Ed has not heard from God SINCE is not what’s important here, because Ed figures God had other things to do, what with making the world a more peaceful place. Why the world is still not a more peaceful place is none of Ed's business and he would never think to criticize God for slacking off since, who knows, God could have been sick or something.
But, 46 years later, Ed finally retired from Sojourners, content to have fulfilled his life-long dream of working hard for very little money. The only downside is that Ed is too old now to pursue his childhood plans of being either a cowboy or an astronaut. But such are the sacrifices one makes when one responds to the call of the Lord, even if immediately after that, the Lord apparently changed His or Her phone number.
Of a more biographic note, Ed holds an associate degree from Vincennes University. He then transferred to Indiana University where, despite his diligence at attending several classes each semester, he was denied a bachelor’s degree because a psychology professor did not appreciate Ed’s refusal to complete his rat experiment. Apparently, Ed’s was the only laboratory rat that bit, so Ed insisted on wearing thick motorcycle gloves when handling the animal which, the professor insisted, skewed the rat’s response to stimuli. Ed told the professor what he could do with stimuli, which unfortunately did not put the professor in the mood to accept Ed’s alternative suggestion, which was to study the response of rats being loudly cursed at while simultaneously being flushed down university toilets.
Since his college days he has made a bit of a name for himself, and not just “You, There,” which is the name his mother called him when she forgot. Ed won numerous awards for his design of Sojourners magazine, and his monthly humor column consistently garnered top honors from both religious and secular media associations. His book A Hamster is Missing in Washington, D.C. won the top prize in humor at the Independent Publisher Book Awards in New York City. (Due to scheduling conflicts, Ed was unable to attend the gala banquet, but had he gone he would have ordered the fish.) The book sold out of its second printing and Ed is now working on a second volume.
Ed is married and has two daughters, all of whom refuse to walk in public with him, on account of the little whoop-whoop sound he makes when he sees a fire truck. His beloved granddaughter, however, likes it when he does this.
Posts By This Author
Decision 2008
A few minor deletions for the sake of a nonpartisan column
Editor’s Note: Okay, Ed, the lawyer has finished looking through your column to make sure it’s totally nonpartisan and that it doesn’t favor or oppose either candidate. With a few minor deletions, he says it’s good to go.
As Election Day approaches, more Americans are anxious about the nnnn future. With the world economy in nnnn—for example, Afghanistan’s opium crop is down by almost 19 percent—America’s nnnnn has never been more needed. And yet, after a grueling nominating process, no nnn candidate has emerged that could reassure the world that Washington, D.C., can be anything more than a big nnn pile of scheming nnnn.
But enough about Dick Cheney’s small group.
On the nnnnnnnn side, the candidate is nnnn nnnn, except for the fact that he’s nnnn and was born in Indonesia, or possibly Illinois, and that he fathered two children with a woman in Chicago. His campaign is promising a quick, bipartisan nnnn to every nnnn problem facing this nation, except for the problem of creating false expectations for bipartisan nnnn.
And let’s be honest, he’s a little more nnnnnn than the rest of us.
I Am (dramatic pause) ... Enviro Man
A Calendar to Set Your Clock By
How About That Economy?
The Gospel of Great News!
Seriously, Is This What Hell Is Like?
There's Something in the Room
As the election season progresses and the inevitable wreckage shows up on the side of the road—Gilmore who?