I can speak to that first.
First of all, it would affect me tremendously professionally. I've been fortunate enough to find myself in a career where people are forgiving, understanding, and results-oriented. As long as you do a good job, they're prepared to overlook your indiscretions. However, I'm fast approaching a ceiling in my work. In order for me to move from senior management to a senior executive, I'm going to need a pardon. I would love nothing more than for Reuters to phone me and say, “Mr. Fraser, we'd love for you to come and work for us and you have to live in London.” I will need a pardon for that. I'd love for CNN to call me and say, “Would you like to work for us and move to Atlanta or to Washington?”, but I would need a pardon for that, too.
I want to emphasize that I don't think I'm a unique individual. My story is different from Chris's; it's different from Taz's. But we have a common bond between us—that the pardon represents closure. I've been conflict-free for six years now. I'm married, I own my own home, I have a mortgage. I have all the responsibilities that you have. But I also have this burden, something I always have to be prepared to answer for, something I get challenged on virtually every day.
Those are the consequences I have to deal with because of the choices I made some time ago. However, I'm making all the right choices now. Not getting a pardon would prevent me from getting any closure on that portion of my life, and that closure is important to me. Also, the lack of a pardon would put a hard ceiling on where I can go professionally.
Chris.