There are many ways for one to be inspired without sitting in church pews for 20 years while hearing hate-fill rhetoric.

Some go to less vitriolic houses of worship. Some to yoga classes. Some poor souls venture to have their ears rung out at the opera.

For me, concerts always did the trick before I graduated to more comfortable surroundings of television and film.

But being in the crowd at Montgomery County Community College today (March 24, one day after turning the ripe old age of 43) to see and hear Democratic presidential hopeful Hillary Rodham Clinton reminded me of moments in time I thought were lost. It sent me back to when I was in my teens. Back to when concerts sent chills up my spine the second my idols would hit the stage.

Perhaps part of this is because I experienced Clinton's appearance like the teen G2 I thought I had buried.

There was the lost art of spontaneity, as I didn't decide to drive the short distance from my house to attend the political rally until I assured myself that my little girl, Sofia, had a full belly and a clean diaper while her grandpa watched her in my absence as her quest to take those magical first steps continued.

Once I arrived at the campus, I saw the line forming in the far-off distance and wondered if I had made the right choice.

I shared the tension with the nice lady from Radnor and her 11-year-old daughter in front of me in line and, by the time we made it to the door (where, of course, I set off the metal detector), I may have gotten the woman, an undecided voter, thinking my way.

Instead of trying to big-time it and flash press credentials, I waited in this long line to get in with concerns - like in those concert-going days before I had connections - that I'd be one of those parceled out to the "overflow room."

But I wasn't.

I got a spot on the floor, close to the stage, in the "real" room as the excitement built much the way it did when I saw The Rolling Stones open their world tour back in 1981 or when I saw Bruce Springsteen or U2 for the first time.

While Montgomery County Commissioner Joe Hoeffel was the best warm-up act this side of the Greg Kihn Band, I was there for the real deal.

And Clinton - like those aforementioned musicians - did not disappoint, hitting every high note as she ran through her agenda in an informative, refreshing and inspiring way.

If I entered with any doubts about her being fit to lead, they were erased. They can talk all they want about the charisma of other candidates. She has plenty of it as well.

Yes, I left MCCC so silly for Hillary that I had a little stuffed animal in my back pocket to give to my princess at home.

It should be noted that the event was sponsored by a group called Pennsylvania Women for Hillary, so she tailored her remarks toward the women that I'd say made up 75 percent of the audience (no complaints about that here).

You could even go so far as to say that Clinton, who walked onto the gym's stage with a smile as broad as her lead in the commonwealth, played the "woman card" the way her Democratic rival, Barack Obama, has played the "race card" since his pastor, Jeremiah Wright, said some "stuff" about America that we're being told is common in many black churches.

As ugly as the hunt for the nomination appears to be getting between Clinton and Obama, she drew a surprising - and encouraging - eruption of applause when she assured the crowd that the party would be unified because, as she said, "none of these things I've talked about today will happen if (presumptive Republican nominee Sen. John McCain) is president."

Clinton - whose topics not only ranged from, but ably linked, health care and economics and education and the environment - saved her best zingers not for Obama, but for the current president.

"We've been through tougher times in America," she said. "But we've never been through tougher times with a worse president."

Although I was playing the part of a civilian, I tried to sit back and take it all in without too much of a show of emotion. On that one, I had to do something. I clapped my hand against my notebook. And I nodded. And, I swear, she looked at me for a brief second and nodded back at me. Then again, I swear Tom Petty looked at me once, too.

That aside, I left the sprawling campus with an adrenaline burst born out of the fact that I had been correct in everything I'll be trying to say to all of you -- both here and in my weekly column space -- about who is the best remaining candidate (don't get me started on John Edwards) for this country.

What did hit me is how much it means to women for Hillary to be elected. This fact gets lost amid the frenzy that Obama - though half-white and not even descended from American slaves - is seen as a source of inspiration to blacks.

I never thought too much about Hillary's gender, but I understand a little more now.

I also never gave much thought to Obama's race in this whole thing, only to the rock-star status given to him by the over-adoring media.

But I saw a rock star today, too. One with songs of substance over style.

My only regret is that my daughter was too young, at a week shy of one year on the planet, to tote along for the show.

It was, as I will tell her one day, something to treasure.

And it is only fitting that it took place as those first steps beckon.