Thrilled I was not.
I could have cared less about the North Star State or some teeny-little-super-guy, an impassioned progressive who wanted to roll back President Bush's "rich-man" tax cut.
He essentially stood alone in his conviction that couples with an income of more than $300,000 should not receive a tax break.
So I plodded along, calling the headquarters of Minnesota's political parties, a slew of political science professors and anyone who would talk to me.
But there was a large and looming problem -- I couldn't find a single soul who Paul Wellstone hadn't pissed off.
He's my kind of guy, I thought. He was scrappy, and, I say with the highest regard, he must have been a royal pain in the ass. He was real; he was turbulent; he was straight-up cool.
This past weekend, a rented twin-engine Beech King Air A100 crashed. Aboard were Wellstone, his wife, his only daughter, three staff members and two pilots.
An entire nation immediately buckled under the tragedy. Questions of sensitivity arose for the Democratic Party and his Republican challenger, former St. Paul Mayor Norm Coleman. Both sides have been treading carefully this past week for fear of a voter backlash.
A political spectrum analysis put Wellstone somewhere to the left of God. He was disdainfully labeled "Senator Welfare," by some. He fought for the little guy, voted his conscience and did all those things that make people energized about politics -- whether they wanted to follow him or try their darndest to unseat him.