Listen, My Children...

Every Little Helps

Thursday, June 05, 2003

Mitt Romney

...was at graduation. I shook his hand. I nearly melted.

I'm a terrible one for famous-people-worship. I tend to get rather silly about it. Even of people hardly anyone else thinks of as famous. Sathianand Clarke read my thesis and I was honored and terrified -- in my eyes, he's incredibly famous, because he's indisputably at the top of the field of Dalit Christianity. Nobody else understood my sentiments. Next year, I'll be studying with Patrick Olivelle, perhaps the world's foremost (living) Sanskritist, and I'm just in awe, which few others understand.

Even of people who are generally held (within the area) to be something approaching famous or important, such as Larry Summers (he's on the money!) or Mitt Romney, I am so thrilled to have any interaction with them at all. I shook the governor's hand and it made my week (far overshadowing graduation); I've talked to Larry (briefly) two times now and shaken his hand three times, and I just can't get over the thrill. I'm like Marilla, for you Anne of Green Gables movie fans (yes -- I don't always think like a guy), when she, a sixty-year-old woman, gets giggly and girly because she got to shake the hand of the Prime Minister.

Of course, there are some benefits to my obsessions -- I saw U2 in concert (a wonderful present from Bob) a year and a half ago, and I'm still riding the high from that one. Imagine if I'd been the girl lucky enough to be picked out of the audience and brought on stage to dance with him... I don't think I'd ever recover.

Anyhow, I know I've probably dropped a notch in some of your estimation, but do allow me my silliness. You'd probably be the same way about someone or other.


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