Beltway Boy

This morning, as I passed by the Pentagon in my red rental car, I experienced a very surreal feeling. You know, the "I've gotta pinch myself" feeling. After 17 years as a politically active American citizen (my first bumpersticker was a Bush/Quayle sticker in 1987, which I put on my bicycle), I finally made my first pilgrimage to the epicenter of American politics, and in a very real way, the epicenter of world evolution. Appropriately enough, this pilgrimage is closely associated with the Mayflower. The Mayflower hotel, that is.

As I sit here at Starbucks, about three blocks from the White House, I feel strangely drawn to this city, like a homing pigeon at the end of its journey. Maybe it's the novelty of the experience, or it could be the politically and intellectually stimulating nature of the Federalist Society convention I am attending, yet, the lure seems almost tangible - like a magnetic power beyond my control.

Like the Pilgrims of 1620, only a few survive the brutal social and politcal environment of this city. But those who will succeed cannot be deterred by failure. If pulled as hard as it is pushed, the great saw of change will eventually make its cut into even the toughest wood. Whether from an office just south of Sacramento, California, or from a ranch in Texas, or from a home in downtown D.C., may I have the courage of conviction to pull the saw of truth as hard as I push.