I’ve been having a very hard time this week trying to distinguish from amongst the milieu about which topic I should write. Not because there is nothing that has grabbed my attention or riled my furor, but because I am so spoiled for choice that its like being already stuffed with a four course meal while having a trey of sumptuous desserts waved before you. Yes, absolutely, but no, I would feel like a glutton. On top of that, this week has been so highly charged with negativity that the piece I was going to write began to feel like a too heavy addition to an already heaving pile of unhappy that has been foisted upon the media landscape. I had come up with a half clever concept about playing “Never Have I Ever” with Nancy Pelosi, but it was so simple to draft it didn’t even feel like sport. This has to be challenging lest I should revert to my 7 year old self and try to set the library reading camel on fire because it never seemed to be my turn. Or blow up my school, which I also pondered at 7, and tried at 12. But I digress. The point is that if I do not find it energizing or entertaining to write, I simply won’t, and this week because of the fog of partisan war, no one single topic has clearly risen to the level of drawing my writerly ire, or inspired my sarcastic sensibilities.
Further, to join the cacophony of voices in outrage would make me “one of,” which is something I have never aspired to be. And when I do begin to rant about those on the Left who seem to now be competing in an increasingly tight race for head crazy of the week, I feel that I am suddenly no better than they, meeting their insane, treason-like calls for coup or assassination with ad hominem attacks on things like the fact that nary a one of the celebrities calling for such even has a college degree, let alone a grasp of reality. And that’s how quickly the descent to their level can occur. Though I have reasoned that my growing allegiance to, and alignment with the right has been galvanized by the behavior of those on the left, it has not materially changed my own behavior or who I am, and I do not wish for it to do so now.
My ex-husband and I were legally separated in 2.5 days; it’s something of which we are very proud. No fighting, no fussing, prenup honored, buh-bye. So though a passionate person I am, I prefer not to drag emotions into situations which can or should be dominated or decided by facts or common sense. Further, though I never cared for Twain, I can still appreciate the wisdom in his words, “Never argue with a fool, onlookers may not be able to tell the difference.” In that same spirit, I am quite proud that the right has, almost universally, not lowered itself to the level of the Left or “argued with a fool,” though we have likewise struggled to raise them to our level or saved them from making fools of themselves. Yet the constant verbal quagmires of this week have filled me with some despair, and I have tried time and again to figure out what — if anything — will put an end to all of the senseless sniping, obstructionism, protests, crocodile tears (can we please coin the phrase Crocodile Chuck?), and calls for boycotts and coups.
After much reflection and even more consternation, it finally occurred to me that we on the right might be missing something that should’ve by now been quite clear. To us, this is a forthright function of democracy and a big step towards securing the future of our nation. But to them, it is more a throbbing snarl of emotion; it is a prolonged break-up with “the one,” for which they feel they never got requisite “closure.” While we went right back to work and got on with our lives, meeting new people and dealing with real issues each day, they curled into fetal positions – Ben & Jerry’s, vapes and therapists-on-speed-dial within reach – and began each day with primal scream release sessions, Adele on surround sound and reruns of Will & Grace. They are in denial; we are in control. How tough it must be for them to see that we’ve moved on, with not a look over our shoulder or glance in the rearview mirror. They are left to wonder what they did wrong, all the while worrying about what we will do next. Like a clingy ex who refuses to let go, they are wrapped up in the what could have beens, fretting over what will soon come to pass.
So perhaps we have been unfair. After all, there is nothing worse for a scorned child, disciplined pet or dumped ex than not being told or shown what it is they did wrong, so that they may both modify their behavior in future and move on from their misdeeds. To that end, I feel it is only right that we who have moved on leave an instructional break up note to those left behind.
Dear Nancy, Dear Ashley, Poor Madonna & TV Grace,
I’m sorry, but we just needed some space
From your faux outrage and gratuitous screams,
From your artifice arguments and distortion of dreams
It’s not us, it’s you who made it this way,
With your vacuous talk, it’s no wonder we strayed
You may not have cheated, but your foreign affairs
And their lack of conviction couldn’t help you be spared
You said insurance for all, at no increased cost
Which I can’t help but think, one more reason you lost
You offshore for taxes and live behind your big walls,
But your own way of life isn’t right for us all?
One would have thought with so much at stake,
You could, just this once, not have been such big fakes
Yes, Barry was cute and indeed gave good speech,
But those who can do, all he had was to preach
To people who had long since grown tired of just talk,
And were ready to tell you to please take a walk
Then there is Hill with her pantsuits galore,
But not even her emails could she safely store
So please keep them both and your thoughts so bereft,
After all, free speech is long dead on the Left
And please don’t call me, I certainly won’t call you,
With all of your lies and deceit, I am through
Just take a deep breath and spare me your tears,
We’ll take care of ourselves for at least four more years