I have an ongoing suspicion that I am living with a Donald Trump supporter. But suspicion is all there is since politics is never discussed in my household. The only thing noticeable is a pregnant silence when the TV news programs present stories on the current race for the White House.
A conspicuous grunt here, a strategic cough there, my companion makes political preferences known through body language rather than a voiced opinion. And perhaps like many homes in America these days, the nonverbal signals may be the only way to show political preference without risking hand to hand combat with spouses, parents, adult children, dinner guests, and co-workers.
Nonetheless, even without any direct declaration of allegiance, it is not hard for me to conclude that Chunk Wheelan, my thirteen-year-old English Labrador, is solidly in Donald Trump’s corner.
From Chunk’s point of view, there is a lot to admire about Mr. Trump. For one thing, he loves the Donald’s snap judgments. In Chunky’s world, this kind of decision-making it is not only highly respected but a core survival instinct. Whether it be sizing up the new neighbor’s dog or marking territory, the need to quickly respond to all circumstances is the name of the game.
It is also true that Chunky responds very well to the Trump Law and Order platform, which allows you to eat anyone you think is getting out of line. It is this kind of “Stand your Ground” philosophy that became the backbone of Chunky’s very limited (my opinion) political perspective in life. So it won’t surprise me to learn that Chunk has strategically buried a “Let’s Make America Great Again” baseball cap for safe keeping in the backyard.
Given all that, it is a splendid thing that we have no real way to talk about politics. We are left with the pure enjoyment of company through daily walks, meal times, and the other mundane tasks of life without arguing about Trump and Clinton.
Unfortunately, this kind of healthy avoidance is not available in most of our relationships. Every day, couples, friends, parents, children, and co-workers are now being confronted with the shocking knowledge, sometimes under surprising circumstances, that someone they know and like (love) has come out in support of Trump-Pence.
We have already witnessed friendships lost as a direct result of this year’s Republican and Democratic primaries. And at least a few friends have told me that they would have no trouble walking out of a dinner party if they spotted a Donald or Hillary supporter at the table. As we move into the final chapter of the 2016 election, it is frightful to predict the social upheaval this election “cycle” will be on American families and relations.
While there little doubt that this election will turn out to be a “once in a lifetime” referendum on the future of America, It might also be an ultimate test of our civility as well.
Over the next several months, as the histrionic nature of a presidential campaign reaches a fever pitch, can we as a society avoid, or at least minimize, the temptation to walk out of a dinner party, disturb a family gathering, or socially shun longtime friends?
Needless to say, this dynamic has been in our culture before. One look at the devastation to family and friends during the lead up to the Civil War can paint a very vibrate picture of how things can get out of control.
Of course, that had to do with the great sin of slavery, but as the toxicity of the campaign and news coverage continue, it is not a stretch that many people will see this election as directly threatening their moral souls. As Trump increasingly blurs the lines between bad humor and the direct advocacy of violence, and Clinton remains stunningly clueless about the public concern over her careless email use, each voting American will need to interpret these differences not only through the lens of political common sense but as as a choice of principle.
So, it will be no wonder that this particular campaign will cause countless domestic arguments and other acts of civil dysfunction in the months ahead. But does it need to be?
This election will be resolved, as all elections before it, in the voting booth not at the dinner table. No wine-infused political debate during a summer barbecue will have the slightest impact in November on how one votes. It is the act of voting itself, not convincing your stubborn lifelong friend of your point of view, that will decide our destiny.
The one thing that supersedes any other cognitive skill that Chunky might possess is his extraordinary capacity to conserve his energy for the truly colossal events in his life. It is inconceivable to him to waste time and effort on anything that doesn’t produce results. Over the years, he has become wise to the fact that it is fruitless to chase rabbits or cats, that the delivery of mail does not give rise to a world crisis, and that barking is to be reserved for only the most grievous of offenses.
There is extraordinary wisdom in realizing that there are many battles in life not worth fighting about. In other words, why spoil a perfectly good walk in the woods with a debate on whose paw is on the nuclear button.
Dave Wheelan is the founder and executive editor of the Chestertown Spy and Talbot Spy.
Nancy Callahan says
I certainly hope your last paragraph was meant to be “tongue-in-cheek.”