No politics for me this week. No siree, I'm on the razor's edge and any discussion about Election 2008 is liable to send me off the deep end for good.
Last Thursday night, at the urging of a man named Ned, I wandered into the Essex County Republicans office on Main Street in Saranac Lake - which, strangely enough, isn't actually located inside Essex County. Interesting strategy, indeed.
This was, of course, a bad decision on my part. Nothing good came of my encounter with the two nice ladies volunteering inside the former Hallmark Store. I ended up berating them about Sarah Palin and stomping out like a child. Eventually, I returned to apologize.
The following day - Friday - I stopped by one more time and chatted with one of the ladies, this time well-rested and on a full stomach. We ended up speaking with each other for nearly 40 minutes, and found some common ground - we both liked former Gov. George Pataki and agreed that David Paterson was doing an especially fine job given the circumstances through which he came to power and the terrible state of the economy.
I said "no politics" at the outset of this column, and have already spent half my space talking about just that. Too late for apologies, I suppose.
Here's a question from the Outrageous Claims Department: Have you seen the greatest running back of all time? That's a loaded question, but what's the point of writing all of these opinion pieces if you're not willing to go out on a limb and say something bold every once in a while?
His name is Knowshon Moreno, or, as the close captioning on the flatscreen at the Lake Placid Pub and Brewery says, "No Sean Marino." He wears #24 for the Georgia Bulldogs and he is as fine a halfback as I've seen in my lifetime. Of course, I wasn't around when Jim Brown and Walter Payton were carving up defenses, but I did spend many-a-Sunday watching Emmett Smith and Barry Sanders, and Moreno is certainly capable of playing to that level.