Talking Across The Canyon

I have a friend. I know him to be a decent, caring person. He is a family man who genuinely cares about both his home and his community. He is also a Conservative. Not just to the right, but so far off the right edge as to challenge sanity. This man would make the Freepers bow down in admiration. I couldn't vote for one of the candidates he supports without a knife to my throat and even then I would think twice about it .... Well there is one, but he's an egotistical, humorless ass who just happens to do a good job.

So how can I call him friend when I reside slightly left of center? It's simple: He listens. He doesn't hear, but he listens. Every once in a while some bit of reality creeps in and he actually acknowledges that I might have a point. Every once in a while one of his points worms its way into my thinking and I concede he might have a point.

We argue across the great divide. No we don't argue, we fight complete with name calling, cited news articles, examples of betrayal. We spit, claw, and are overjoyed when we draw blood. The man gives me a headache like you wouldn't believe. We won't even begin to mention the blood pressure. Heaven only knows what I do to him simply because I'm more verbal and can swear better.

This is the magic of America. Two people with wildly different viewpoints can not only exist, but actually keep talking without the urge to pick up a weapon and destroy each other. Of course he is wrong all of the time and I am right all of the time. So let the battle go on ... as long as I am proven right and can say, "I told you so".