They're out there. People still driving around with McCain/Palin bumper stickers. Neighbors with fresh holes in their lawns where they pulled up the McCain signs. Acquaintances who spot me coming down the aisle at the supermarket and wheel their cart in the opposite direction.
I want to tell them it's safe to come back. I've stopped ranting and I'm not gloating. In the spirit of healing that Obama has brought to our country and the world, I'm ready to do the same thing. Reach out to Republicans.
I feel their pain. I've been there. We all have. And I remember it well. Not only the sour taste of defeat, but the desperation of despair. Fearing that the country is a runaway train barreling full speed down the wrong track and you're powerless to stop it. Feeling that you're an island of sanity surrounded by hostile aliens.
Weeks ago, while I was in the depths of Democratic cheerleading, I got an email from a woman whose son was on the same high school football team with my son a few years ago. We had a nodding acquaintance across the bleachers, and I have never seen her outside a football scenario.
She sent me this personal email because she had inadvertently been sent one of my blogs–and she didn't like it. I can't remember which one it was—maybe when I wrote snarky songs about McCain and Palin, or when I compared John McCain to Mike Tyson. (OK, so I went a little over the top.)
She was not involved in politics, she wasn't interested in commenting publicly, but she had strong feelings. And instead of bitching about me behind my back, she took the time to very thoughtfully express her views from the other side, and not so gently reprimand me for implying that all Republicans must be stupid.
I went back and looked at the words I had written, through her eyes. I couldn't take back my words, nor would I–but I wrote her back. She wrote back again. And in this way, we exchanged more words over the internet than we had ever exchanged in real life. Our opinions about this election were as far from each other as the North and South Poles. In our electronic exchange, we agreed to disagree. And she suggested that when it was all over, maybe we'd meet for coffee sometime, to discuss the ultimate result. I knew we never would. It was one of those things you say to break off a conversation that is ready to end.
I went on ranting about Republicans. And I'm sure she never read my blog again.
Two days after the election, I ran into her in the local UPS store. We were both shipping packages to our sons who were away at their respective colleges. We talked about how they were doing–sticking to our one piece of common ground and steering clear of the big red elephant in the room.
I tried to dial down my post-election euphoria. I remember how it felt when McGovern lost every state except Massachusetts. And when we elected Bush a second time, and I was considering a move to New Zealand. So before I left the UPS store, I reminded her about that cup of coffee. We're meeting tomorrow.
Bravo to both of you for putting aside your political differences and hearing each other out.
As one who has family members with political leanings toward both the right and far left, I confess most of the bashing I heard during the election, from both parties, really turned me off. I also think it’s important to remember that not all Republicans are stupid–some just have different political perspectives which yes, are valid.
Thank you for sharing your story. Let’s hope others can learn from it.
Thanks so much for commenting. I too have plenty of friends —and family–on both sides–and hope I haven’t made enemies of them.
My wife is friends with a couple who idolize Bush and company. During the election season, they made noises about moving to Canada if Obama won. (I considered that option BEFORE the election when our presidential choice was among Nixon, Humphrey, and George Wallace. For them, choosing a country that has something as socialist as single-payer health care seemed counterintuitive to me.) Post-election, I suggested that, aside from helping these folks pack for their new home in the north, my better half could offer them the consolation that at least “that b—– Hillary” (their phrase, not mine) didn’t win the presidency!