Fellow Travellers

I went to the nation's capital this past weekend to attend a national political convention. I am a member of the executive on the board of my local riding association, a position which really sounds more prestigious than it is -- while our party is competitive nationally, we have very little support in my riding and our group is very small.
I started to get involved in politics a couple of years ago as part of an ongoing effort to meet new and perhaps more like-minded people after realising that I found myself increasingly ideologically at odds with most of the people I identified as my friends, colleagues and acquaintances.

I was quite excited in the months leading up to the convention, especially after we won an election a month beforehand, meaning we would be gathering not only as comrades but as celebrants of a great victory. And as I said, the local pool where I am from is very small, so there I would have the opportunity to meet and share my enthusiasm with hundreds of fellow party members from across the country. I made the weekend a focal point of my entire spring: I put myself on the wagon and on a diet for the entire month of May, I had my friend P. take me shopping and choose an entire wardrobe for the trip, I booked a room in a beautiful, old, railway-built hotel.

As it turned out, I enjoyed myself at the convention and managed to avoid succumbing to any acute attacks of loners and/or sadders. Despite meeting lots of people and having a great night hopping from party to party in my new suit on Friday night, I was still somewhat disappointed that I did not make any solid connections and had to content myself with what was otherwise a very satisfying, outgoing experience. My confidence was not bulletproof, but it was nonetheless pretty solid, and thankfully I held it pretty level for most of the trip.

The next night I was unexpectedly back home and was thus able to attend a birthday party for my friend N.'s brother. He was turning 30, and N., who is the girlfriend of a good friend of mine closer to my age, is even younger than that, as are most of her friends. I still had some shiny new clothes left over from my shopping spree with P., and I showed up in good spirits and looking sharp. I have long teased N. that she really should make more of an effort to set me up with one of her many friends, and she has long responded back that for the most part her friends find me to be creepy. But a funny thing happened that night: I managed to make a whole new impression on several of N.'s friends who had been repeatedly put off by me in the past, to the point where more than one of them made a point of telling her the next day how surprised and impressed they were with me that night. And all I did was take a minute to refine my grooming, stay reasonably sober, and maintain that confidence, with a dash perhaps of nonchalance to remind myself not to take myself so seriously and just enjoy the ride.