On the urging of my college friends, I entered the Washington Post contest for a new pundit/columnist position.  Ok, they were looking for a fresh face and mine is 45 years old, but, hey, I am younger than some people.

I submitted a short piece about the mixed legacy of Ted Kennedy (whether our nation’s ideals would have been better served if he didn’t get a free pass on his transgressions) and referred them to this blog. 

I had dreams of having a by-line on a column next to those of Pulitzer Prize winners.  My mother would have beamed from Heaven as if I had received a Nobel Peace Prize. 

So, by entering a contest, I was three degrees away from a Nobel Peace Prize.  Three degrees. 

So, I didn’t get a bronze, silver or gold.  But I was a contender. 

And that, I think, is close enough for my mother, who believed that EVERYONE is entitled MY opinions.