There’s a scene in the movie “Step Brothers” where Will Farrell’s character decides that he needs to be a grownup, not a 36-year-old man-child, and he asks his therapist for help (I’d put a video clip of it here but I couldn’t find one so you’ll have to make do with a text quote):
“…and the thing I wanna ask you, to help me… To show me how I can be a grown-up. Do I carry my high-school diploma around? What do you do with your hair? What happens if there’s inclement weather? Where do you…? What do you wear? Can you wash clothes in the dishwasher?”
As I gather up my fancy clothes and pack in preparation of my trip to Ottawa for the Liberal convention this weekend, this scene keeps playing through my head. I feel like an old kid sneaking into the grownups party, and I don’t know what I’m doing. How do I properly pack a garment bag? Do I have a garment bag? Will anyone look at my shoes? Don’t mistake this bewilderment for fear or hesitation. I’m very excited, and my excitement is consistently overruling my traditional anxious fretting. Anytime a detail pops into my head that I haven’t really thought about yet, I’m shrugging it away with a simple “I’ll figure it out”. Confidence and excitement are great friends to have along for a trip.
And much more than the political wheeling and dealing and hobnobbing, I’m thrilled to see my nation’s capital. I had never realized how profound my patriotic love of this country really is, but the prospect of seeing the home of our democracy has me giddy. Maybe I’ll walk up Parliament Hill for the first time in my life and I’ll get a face full of icy slush thrown on my by a passing cab, and the illusion will be broken. Even if that happens, I suspect I’m still going to have a pretty inspiring moment.
I’ll try to blog during the weekend, as I get tossed about by the byzantine machinations of the political beast, with people on all sides of me pitching their ideas trying to sway me to their side. 18 hours ’til Ottawa!