Yesterday afternoon, while napping through a football game (poor Redskins), I was awakened by my front doorbell. Opening the door, still wrapped in my cozy blankie, I was presented with a young, fresh-faced, redheaded man. He proceeded to tell me he was running for a spot on our local city council and wanted me to vote for him. Being the curmudgeon I am (if a woman can be curmudgeonly), I decided to put him through his paces and see what he knew. I complained about the high property taxes past council members have saddled us with, and I whined about corruption and the fact that the only ones getting a break these days are the developers. While I ranted and raved, he politely nodded his head and said he understood my concerns. When I wound down to take a breath, he stepped in and told me what he wanted to do about some of our current problems. I let him give me his spiel and when he was through I realized that I was just like him at that age — wanting to make the world a better place, eager, a tad bit naive, but unfettered by life’s disappointments. This young man believes he can turn around years of fiscal mismanagement and other council shenanigans, and he never said an unkind word about his opponents (unlike the 2008 Presidential election nonsense). I’m not confident he can make a difference, but I’m going to give him a chance. Too bad this young man can’t talk to some of our Presidential candidates — they could certainly use a whiff of fresh air.