I spent the weekend in Washington, D.C. (without boots, as you well know).
Alan, my college newspaper colleague from eons ago, a man I'll still call a good friend, is now president of the National Press Club.
Saturday night was his big inauguration party during a big snowstorm with some big names (like Bob Schieffer and the senior senator from Minnesota) and some small names (like mine) in attendance. He took the oath of office over a Brett Favre Vikings jersey. Alex Trebek & Meredith Vieira sent video. We ate Jell-O and bison steaks and devilled eggs with krumkake for dessert. We marvelled that for a very-D.C. event we got very-Minnesota weather.
I've been emotionally laid low by it.
I still haven't figured out how to articulate what it felt to witness an old friend reach a mountainous career pinnacle at the age of 36 -- watching him willingly shoulder the opportunity and the burden of being the face of journalism in the United States at a time when the very profession is in peril. Relieved that, despite all things, he still harbors the same stubbornness, inventiveness, and singular personality that he did when he was 20. Realizing how hard he has worked and how much he has sacrificed, and wondering on some level if this is really what he wants.
I need to think about it some more and get back to you.