Tragic has followed a checkered career as a journalist, radio personality, government PR flack, ad writer, and minister. He has hundreds of newspaper stories, dozens of magazine stories, scores of TV and radio comedy sketches, and one book to his credit.
Tragic worked for as a public information officer for an environmental regulatory body for six years, then shucked it all to go into the ministry. Not a good career move.
In 1996, Tragic graduated with an M.Div., on track to become a Unitarian Universalist minister with two churches begging for him to be their interim. After nasty experiences as an intern and church consultant, and finding himself too white, male, straight, and Christian to be approved for UU ministry, he leaped out and became a freelance theologian. He has considered himself an Episcopalian since 1997, albeit one with Eastern Orthodox tendencies.
Leaving the ministry wasn't a good move, either, as potential employers look at the M.Div and assume (a) he's a religious nut, or (b) it's a master's degree and he'll want more money. Except for a short stint on the marketing staff of a major insurance company, he's been freelancing for several years.
He has a daughter, Miranda, from his first marriage, and two children from his second marriage, to a family practice physician. Everything changed in 2004 when their daughter, Dot, was born with Down syndrome and, two months later, their 2-year-old son, Henry, was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy.
Today, Tragic is a stay-at-home dad, trying to negotiate Disability World from their large rambling house in a foothill community near Los Angeles.
"Tragic," by the way, comes from "the tragic sense of life," written by Miguel de Unamuno, defined by Richard L. Rubens as :
The central, defining characteristic of the tragic sense of life is its insistence on the balance between the striving for rationality on the one hand, and the recognition of the underlying irrationality of existence on the other.
In other words, "Tragic Christian" refers to a concept in Christian existentialism. It doesn't mean he thinks life has dumped on him. Well, most of the time he doesn't think that.
The icon is St. Joseph, patron saint of fathers, among other things. He was patron to our cousin, Bl. Andre Bessette, a great healer who built a chapel to the saint in Montreal.
Ba-ruch a-tah A-do-nai E-lo-hei-nu Me-lech Ha-o-lam,
m'sha-neh ha-b'ri-yot.
Blessed are You, O Lord, King of the Universe,
who makes the creatures different.