I was in the wrong place at the wrong time today. I probably scared the beepers out of some young man as a result. I was sitting in the Senate press box waiting for the 2 p.m. start of the floor session. I heard a noise and then — bam! — I was clobbered on my noggin by a clipboard. I started to utter an oath. I looked up to the gallery. There was a young guy, probably part of a Capitol visit to see the representative process in action, who was pleading from one floor above me that he was sorry.
My head hurt. I wasn’t happy. I took the clipboard around to the back of the Senate and met the guy as he came down the stairs from the gallery. He repeated how sorry he was. I don’t think I said anything, for fear that I would say something. My head still hurts. I’m sorry I wasn’t more understanding that it was only an accident. By the way, this has never happened before to me — at least not that I remember. And, I hate to admit, I could see myself being in that guy’s spot.