just buying milk

He's just a man who thought he'd be in Washington becoming president, not here at Harris Teeter,"

I saw him at the grocery store. It was the day after President Obama's inauguration and spirits were high and hopeful in the progressive little college town where he and I live. Though the day meant a lot to many people, for him, I imagine it carried a more bitter than sweet significance. He was coiffed - his hair was touseled, his jeans were pressed. He looked good, maybe too good to ever be president. No one seemed to notice him; this was his hometown after all. But his picture had been all over the magazines for sale in the same check-out line where he now stood, buying normal everyday groceries.

"Who is that man?" my young daughter asked in a whisper, struck by his style, his sparkle. "He's just a man who once believed he'd be in Washington becoming president this week." I told her as John Edwards grabbed his milk and left the store.