I initiated this blog as an outlet for views I can't easily voice where I live without career and life repercussions. Readers who know me in real life can appreciate that that's not just paranoia. My neighborhood is one of the most rabidly liberal within a small city that voted more than 4:1 for John Kerry last fall. It in turn, is one of the most liberal within a Northeast state that Democrats have carried handily since FDR. Uber-liberals (all six of them), living in states like Wyoming or Mississippi may feel a similar sense of political isolation.
Much of the time, the local political landscape is something I can put in the background. Sometimes it is not - spilling over into daily life despite my best efforts to not raise political subjects. Saturday night was one of those times.
My wife (a liberal Kerry supporter) and I attended a dinner party at the invitation of a neighbor couple and two friends of theirs whose lives are increasingly overlapping with our own, e.g., at church, in business, through our kids' sports. They are pleasant enough people. The food was first rate. I came in with plenty of non-political subjects towards which I figured we could steer the conversation. (My wife and I operate under a kind of 'no-first-strike' accord under which we both know instinctively which subjects to avoid.) She was steering away from hidden rocks as much as I was. It didn't work.
In hindsight, I should have seen this coming. We don't get out much, but the last local dinner party we attended is etched in my mind for this little exchange:
Neighbor I hadn't met, sitting next to her husband: "Hi, I'm [person]. We're Democrats!"
Me: "Uh, that's nice." [Kicking myself later that I didn't have the nerve to simply ask "Why?"]
Host: "They're working with me on Dennis Kucinich's presidential campaign."
Me: "How 'bout them Red Sox!"
Back to last Saturday. Without provocation or even hint from me, the general Bush-bashing - complete with name-calling, rolling-of-eyes, and tired MSM saws about his pronunciation of particular words - began before we even sat down. I asked for another glass of wine. I figured that it would either embolden me to dive in and defend a hardened position against overwhelming force (in my imagination, channeling the articulate assaults of William F. Buckley Jr. to dropped jaws around the room), or it would anaesthetize me just enough to hold a noncommittal smile (and a tongue bitten almost clean through) for the remainder of the evening.
The spontaneous angry energy that the other four expended was astounding. They simply could not believe or accept that they live in a nation that voted for George Bush. Nobody
they know did. Despite my never offering assent or support on anything they said, they never asked, and didn't seem to care where I stood. They still don't know my political leanings. In that sense, the evening was not unusual. I find that liberals in this part of the country are both so self-absorbed, and so used to talking with their own that all but the most direct confrontation of their views goes completely unnoticed. Strong hints (like a great big grin on November 3rd last year amidst general wailing an tearing of hair), usually fly safely under the radar. I was not in a mood to debate. Nobody was going to be convinced. I took mental notes and allowed myself to be inwardly amused.
At one point, the host (a journalist) complained that his young teenage son had challenged him on abortion.
"You'd think we were raising a little pro-lifer in this house!" Note to host:
Maybe you are. Is that a problem? The shock he expressed seemed almost of a kind with the shock that some parents used to express if they began suspecting that their child might be gay. They went on to relate how they'd tried to gently talk their son out of his budding conservative views. Again, the parallels with an 'outing' in a 1950's-era household were remarkable.
Iraq came up at one point but was dismissed within 30 seconds.
"Does anyone honestly believe that we'd have gone in there if it weren't for oil?" All heads except mine shook earnestly.
No, of course not. Oil. That's the ticket. Case closed. Next subject. Polite smile. More wine. These are smart people with frighteningly responsible jobs. Yet there was no discussion of what "oil" means. They all seemed to know: a single code word for an entire world view.
How did Mr. Bush profit from the venture?, I might have asked, but didn't.
What did he actually say to the American people to justify the action? How did he manage to get re-elected by such a margin? No mention of harboring terrorists, or
consensus on WMD, or rape rooms or the torture of children, or an unprecedented election that has set tens of millions on a new path to freedom. Just "oil". That's it. As Iraq fades into the left's rearview mirror, the bold strategic conclusion to a war that Saddam started 15 years ago with the invasion of Kuwait is summarized by the left as the supposed greed of one man they hate with blind, unreasoning passion.
Gun control came up as well. What everyone else could agree on was:
"I don't feel safe in Texas. And now Florida too?" I didn't have the heart to throw a stink bomb on the table by noting how FBI data shows substantially
lower violent crime rates in right-to-carry states. Too much trouble. Personally I choose not to own a gun, but I wouldn't deny others their
right to choose differently on that subject. Should they misuse their gun, we have laws for that - as we do with cars, liquor and many other dangerous products that foolish people will misuse. But my host and fellow guests had already dismissed the NRA as,
"well, you know", (more rolling of eyes),
"The NRA!" Never mind the FBI - under Clinton - as the source of the data. Scintillating logic. More wine to wash down the blood tricking from deep bite marks on my tongue.
Lest this rant begin to seem unfair to my gracious hosts, I noted two brief moments of agreement:
1) The Bill Clinton and Monica affair, we all agreed, had
given sexual license to everyone's kids in ways we didn't like. The agreement stopped there. My fellow diners felt comfortable implying that Ms. Lewinsky was at fault. They held back on any hard words for the former leader of the free world who played the other part then lied about it under oath. After all, trashing him would mean trashing their best hope for women being treated better. Even as a monogamous, God-fearing man sits in the White House, they take it on faith that he must be worse for women. Again,
scintillating logic. I didn't have the heart to take it one step further by dropping admiring words about Margaret Thatcher and Condi Rice. Call me chicken, but I was enjoying the food.
2) One other guest (who works in the financial services industry) noted that she was a bit disappointed at the Democrats' response on Social Security reform, then quickly stopped herself, sensing that she was out on a limb.
"Gosh, I'm sounding almost like a Republican here, aren't I?" Whew! Quick recovery. We wouldn't want
that. I almost 'outed' myself at that moment. I'm glad I didn't. It would have spoiled the rest of an entertaining evening. My tongue is almost healed.