As I got older (read: after elementary
school through college), I founded friendships with others on more
specific criteria: shared hobbies, shared school subjects and the
like. The more discerning I became with whom I chose to count among
my friends, the fewer new friendships I made. This was likely due to
the fact that I was a shy kid, a bit nerdy, abhorred sports as if
they were a particularly virulent strain of anthrax, and preferred
reading a book to engaging in small talk in a group. Despite my best
efforts to become a recluse, I became part of a very close-knit group
of friends who played Dungeons & Dragons (one group member became
my best friend to this day). In high school, it was marching band (I
was a string bass player from the age of five, but joined the drum
line so I could get a Letterman's jacket). In college, it was
orchestra, jazz band, and wind ensemble (who knew they needed a
string bass player?)...
When I was in college, there were
political activist groups (as there have been since the days of straw
hats and spontaneous barbershop quartets), but – as a music major –
I didn't have time to follow politics. I was too busy studying for
exams, rehearsing for concerts, and indiscriminately mooching off of
my parents and the more gullible members of the Music Department. As
a result, my college friendships weren't based on political ideology,
but things that were fun and focused on my burgeoning career as a
professional musician.
And, as everyone knows come election
time, discussing politics in college is not fun. Especially if it
involves differing viewpoints. In fact, I can think of a few things
that would be more enjoyable:
- An Icy-Hot enema.
- Listening to Jim Carey's “Most Annoying Sound In The World”, while power-squatting on a barbed-wire fence post.
- A hot date with Vlad, the Impaler.
- Finding out your gastroenterologist chose to handle habanero peppers before your colon exam, sans rubber gloves.
Basically, anything involving
non-consensual rectal discomfort.
After college, my lifelong dream to
become a studio musician came to an abrupt close, thanks to copious
amounts of what doctors call “nerve and muscle damage” (or what
some of my colleagues preferred to call “I guess you just don't
like to play”. By that time, I was working in radio to pay the
bills, or as I liked to call it, “beer money”. Well, new
friendships usually formed over work, or connections through my job
in radio. Being “in radio” naturally opens one up to politics,
politicians, and political spin for conversational gain, and I
received an education on politics that one friend of mine - a
Democratic state representative and college professor I interviewed
every week for years – called, “more thorough than college
civics”. I became friends with Democrats, Republicans, Independents, and every
other capital letter in the alphabet, and those friendships were
mutually appreciative because – regardless of political ideology – we listened to each other (though I am pretty certain that, as the report, I listened more and they talked more).
I listened intently, asked questions without pandering for a friendly
response, thanked them for their answers, and published the contents of our conversations on the air, without bias or creative editing. Not to toot
my own horn (if I did, it would be in the key of B-flat, with a sharp
11th in the bass, sometimes called the “Brown Note”),
but during that heyday of being a political “insider”, I was
mentioned by name on the floor of the Washington State House as an
example of a “fair and balanced” reporter. Had I the foresight, I would have copyrighted that moniker before a major news
network made it theirs.
With the advent of social media, some
people I spent years forming close-knit relationships seem ready (and
eager) to let political ideology become the lens through which they see me and
others. For these folks, what I shared with them in the past (read: what made us friends in the first place) is no longer of relevance. They aren't interested in the time we both spelled
the same word wrong in the spelling bee. Growing up in the same neighborhood, sharing childhood together, supporting each other through thick and thin, now means nothing. Personally, I couldn't care less who you voted for. However, for many
people I know, how I voted is a not only a concern of theirs, but something I need to be put in my place for. Why does it make such a
difference who I voted for? Why has the check you made at the ballot box
now a measure of your worth as a human being? Thanks to the political climate in America, by virtue alone of having a mind of my own and voting for the candidate different from from the vast majority of the folks I became friends with over decades, I (and others who voted along with me) are now labelled a racist, bigot, homophobe, sexist,
Islamophobe, or any other disparaging label that fits the political narrative. Anyone who truly knows me knows in their heart that I am none of the above, but that political lens prevents them from allowing them to acknowledge what they already know - I'm not a bad buy.
It's not just through social media. On
more than a few occasions, I'll be at a “mixed company social
event”, and someone who thinks they have a bead on my political
views will approach me, looking to engage in a heated discussion (read: a one-sided debate). I'm not sure why these wise-acres think this is useful, for they never seem to want to engage in actual dialogue. Rather, they seem motivated to let me know that my opinions make me worse than
Hitler, simply for not thinking like them. When approached by those people, I
tend to give them a beer and homemade coupons for free hugs. I need more need to give out more hugs. And, perhaps I should switch out the beer for bourbon. That, however may be construed as "too Republican". Vodka? No, too "hacking conspiracy". How about a warm Zima?
Why do some folks seek
confrontation over politics? Is it to make themselves feel better
about their own political beliefs? Is it a cry for help? Is the
confidence in their own world view so low that they have to seek
confrontation for justify themselves? It's like trying to watch a
movie with someone yelling to you how much they think the movie
sucks, no matter how much popcorn you try shoving down their throat
(which - by the way - will anger them even more, no matter how much
soda you try to get them to wash it down with). Those perpetually unhappy folks seek to
change the dynamic of the friendship I have with them, for the
purpose (I can only guess) of either turning me into a copy of them,
or as some sort of polite way of saying they don't value the founding
reason for that friendship.
During my time as a reporter, I met a number of politicians who were passionate in their ideologies, but were not close-minded in their thinking. They knew that not everyone held the same ideology as they did, and were sensitive to all of their constituents. Those politicians earned my respect, and they returned that respect in spades. I don't find it surprising that they treated the "big picture" of politics more maturely than those that use the "us versus them" mentality as means to judge the worth of others. If there is one thing I have gleaned from this political season, it is that too many people put a political party ahead of anything else.
With all that said, I have some wonderful friends who disagree with my voting choices. We choose to agree to disagree, and that's that. I also have many friends with whom there is no inkling of political persuasion. We don't ask, we don't tell, because it doesn't matter. For me, these are the friends I value most, as I never know when I will need a couch to crash on, or a bass to borrow for a gig. The rest – however - behave worse than the worst politicians, and that's what has ruined wonderful friendships.
People don't suck. Becoming wrapped up in politics - making it more important than friendships - makes people suck.
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