Election night

Again, we broach a heresy bordering on the Albegensian (love that word!), but I don't give a rip about elections anymore. Used to be that I loved every minute of it ... turns out, I've discovered, that politics is my father's passion ... not mine. I used to hunger for every scrap of political gossip, again, thanks to Dad. Used to sit up late and follow the returns ... Dad, too. Funny how so much of my own career really wasn't rooted in my choices at all. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to be proud of me. I picked journalism in sixth grade, that's true -- but it sure helped that Dad loved it and even told me once that he was the assistant sports editor of the Warren Tribune-Chronicle when he was 16 (in 1938). Amazing. I sure have learned a lot about myself through this process of writing my parents' story. Maybe that's why I wanted to do it in the first place ... Susan is arriving tomorrow, so Scribbler will be snoozing until Tuesday. Have a nice weekend.