Excerpt from Stories I Only Tell My Friends
As a person navigating the waters of public scrutiny, you are often unable to hold on to personal heroes or villains. Inevitably you will meet your hero, and he may turn out to be less than impressive, while your villain turns out to be the coolest cat you've ever met. You never can tell, so you eventually learn to live without a rooting interest in the parade of stars, musicians, sports champions and politicians. And you lose the ability to participate in the real American pastime: beating up on people you don't like and glorifying people you do.
I had not yet learned that truism when he and I first met. I was at a point where I was deeply unhappy with my personal life, increasingly frustrated about where my career seemed to be going–although from the outside it would probably appear to anyone observing that I was among the most blessed 24-year-olds on the planet. In an effort to find substance, meaning and excitement, I had become deeply involved in the world of politics.