Denver 30: 20
I love politics. Listening to NPR, reading the opinion and editorial pages, watching the debates — all of it. Blame it on being a Girl State enthusiast or just being one of those kids who wanted desperately to be in student council. When I’m in Phoenix, I try to grab at least 10 minutes with my friend Kent. He is so damn smart and simply sees the world differently than I do. He too enjoys a long conversation about world affairs. His wife, one of my closest friends, does not. And so, when we are in a group, Kent and I regularly find ourselves put together in one car while everyone goes in another. Because they know it is just a matter of time before the Middle East, women’s rights, energy trade, and the military come up in an often heated, and sometimes emotional, discussion.
These conversations scratch a part of my brain that otherwise sits dormant.
Once upon a time in Phoenix, I worked for a fairly important political figure. I learned a lot from her — and while I knew the players in Phoenix politically, I did not want to be involved. In Colorado, I don’t know a soul, which in this sense is refreshing. I don’t know about previous abuses of power and hypocrisy. How their wives/husbands are both “pro family” and “in rehab for extramarital sexual misconduct.” How they are anti-immigration and yet have that nanny from Honduras who isn’t paying taxes… How they believe in fighting for the environment and having a Hummer dealership. Naively, I get to march blind on to the political scene and get involved without packing any cynicism.
Okay, specific cynicism.
And to that, I say hooray! And watch out, pretty gold Denver capitol building. If I’m around this state long enough, we may spend lots of time together.