When I began considering a run for political office, the first thing I thought about was how to "display" humility. Think about it. While true humility is an attractive human trait, especially for a politician, few master it. They don't even try, despite the fact that they have a lot to be humble about.

Some have worked so long and hard at getting their name before the public that they begin referring to themselves, by name, in the third person. Remember when Bob Dole was running for president? "I'm Bob Dole, and when Bob Dole is elected president...." You get the idea.

I find that tasteless and despicable.

I can promise you right now that Dave Nelson will not subject you to such electioneering hubris. No siree. Dave Nelson will run a clean, hard-fought, positive campaign. And when elected (can there be any doubt?), Dave Nelson will not change. Dave Nelson will remain the same brilliant but humble friend all of you have come to know.

But how to make the humility thing seem "real'? That might be a problem. I think it was comedian George Burns who mused that faking humility was one of the hardest acts to master.

Sometimes an experience comes along that fills a need and befits the occasion. An incident last week ground me to powder in the crucible of humility. Whether or not it will last, we will just have to wait and see.

It happened like this. We were visiting an old neighbor in Tucker last Sunday afternoon after church. Their obnoxious chihuahua, after twenty minutes of yapping, took a sudden apparent liking to me, and jumped into my lap. After a few minutes of squirming, the little mongrel proceeded to pee in my lap. Since I planned to return to church that night, and was eighty-five miles from home, I had no choice but to retreat to the bathroom and de-urine my pants with intense scrubbing, followed by prolonged use of a hair dryer.

It was a humbling, embarrassing experience for which I was not prepared. All the way back to Royston that night, I bemoaned the humiliation of having been peed on by a chihuahua. The indignity of it all!

Finally my wife, after an hour of confinement in a car with a complaining spouse, had heard enough. Unconvinced that the humiliation was more than mere posturing, she who must be obeyed and who works unceasingly to keep me humble, observed quietly, "Too bad it wasn't a Great Dane."