Confession Tuesday

Dear reader-


It seems to be that time again, time to traipse into the confessional and unburden myself. This past week seems to be a series of highs and lows. I have lots to confess so let’s get started.


The winter Olympic Games are now over. This is both good and bad. I confess am a winter Olympic addict. I can tell you that the Olympics did not help my writing. This weekend was a particularly bad weekend for writing. Quantity and quality were both casualties. I could feel the withdrawal pains as the closing celebration began. It’s a sadness I get that is not at all unlike that of the end of baseball season.


I actually have mixed feelings about these Olympic Games. I’m not going to blame it on Canada that the weather was let’s say schizophrenic on the slopes. I’m sure if the country could have willed better cooperation from Mother Nature it would have been perfect. But for all the troubles they had, it seemed they were a gracious host nation. I confess I was disappointed with the coverage. It just isn’t what it used to be going back to Sarajevo in ‘84 (one of my favorite) the ’76 games in Innsbruck, Austria and the Lake Placid games in 1980. Coverage during those years was awesome.


I confess that Friday night when we went to the Sprint Center to see Elton John and Billy Joel in concert that I felt at lest 20 years younger. I confess my body wanted to dance and sway and do all kinds of things that I’m sure would have been painful come Saturday morning. I confess I did none of those things – and was moderately reserved though not comatose in my seat. Still, I don’t believe I embarrassed any of my family members in attendance.


I also confess that this past week I argued, debated, whatever you wish to call it, health care and politics at a public place with another family member. It was a heated or passionate exchange and I’m sure everyone felt uncomfortable about it. In the end, even I was. I’m not happy that it went to the level it did, but it was probably inevitable from the outset. I am indeed a product of the 1960’s. I am indelibly shaped by the events of those turbulent years. I am someone who feels a heavy burden to be a part of the fix of the screw-up of those who preceded us and those of my own generation that continue to repeat so many of those same mistakes. I accepted then and continue to believe in a calling to public service. It is that very reason that I spent so many years – often long hours involved in political campaigns and various issues. It informed how I spent a good portion of my life, including decisions that continue to shape my future. I suspect many who know me simply consider that I am obstinate. I may be guilty of such, but that will not suffice to explain my hardball approach to politics. I confess I am far more complex than to be defined in those terms. I also confess that none of this changes that I regret the conversation.




Photo Credit: Concert Photo at top - Q (yes that's what we call her)