Taking a Ride to The Other Side

A Blue Guy Mingles in Red Hangouts. Listens.

YOU’RE READING THIS, so I’m talking to you. In a way. But we need to talk to each other more. In person.

And these days -- these distrustful, often deranged days -- the people we need to talk to the most generally don’t dress like us, dine like us, or vote like us.

WE RECENTLY lost a very special person, one of the finest examples of our species, and she, Jane Goodall, once said, “Change happens by listening and then starting a dialogue with the people who are doing something you don’t believe is right.”

Now, we may want to pause and think about how hard that might be. If a neighbor is consistently doing something you consider obnoxious, flat out wrong or downright unneighborly, we’re not usually inclined to go and talk with them.

We may get annoyed with their dog barking incessantly after 11 pm, or them firing up their 75-decibel leaf blower at 6:45 in the morning, and shout over the fence, It’s late! Shut that dog up! Or, turn that blower off, it’s Saturday morning!

But are we inclined to go knock on their door and say: I’d don’t believe we’ve really met. Let’s have a cup of coffee sometime.

We are less than inclined. (BUT if we did that, how much easier would it be to ask them, nicely, to hush the dog late at night or keep the leaf blower off until at least 8 a.m? Right, much easier. Also consider, if you will, following this line of reasoning into larger issues.)

CROSSING OVER THE DIVIDE. I’ve been hanging and dining with blue collar people more often of late and let me start by making a simple confession: I generally like their company.

They tend to be open, outgoing, noisy to the point of boisterous, far less quick to judge than many of us might imagine, and – offline, face to face – willing to engage and even listen. They surely like to laugh. All in all, blue collar people tend to be a lot of fun.

Our online caricatures can be pierced in under an hour. And, when engaged, their furrowed brows and folded arms can be loosened just about as quickly.

And that’s the thing: we always hope to instruct or out-debate or enlighten them, when sometimes all it takes is turning on the lights in a community center, playing a game of pool or ping pong, and leaving our political slogans and certitude at the door.

PERHAPS WE FOLLOW the Dude, Jeff Bridges’ mellow, wayward character in the great 1998 flick, The Big Lebowski, do what he, Walter and Donnie did, and enter a bowling alley on any given Saturday night. My wife and I did that recently and it was, well, refreshing as hell.

Now let’s put aside what might appear to be a sociological expedition of any sort, or curious cultural anthropology, or any kind of condescending intellectual claptrap. Every single demographic has fine people in it and real assholes -- every race, region and income level has people of heart and deep feeling, and people who are callous and cold. Period. End of that simple reminder.

As for our shared humanity? In these truth-bending, distorted times we often don’t see each other as full human beings. I think we thought more highly of the Russians during the Cold War.

Of course there are big crowbars in American life right now, with some people (one especially) and very large companies pulling hard on the damn crowbars. I’m guessing you might know this, what Paul Avellino and others have stated, whether you’re online and on social media twice a week or five times a day. Paul said this, “The real danger isn’t that we disagree, it’s that the algorithms have made sure we don’t live in the same reality anymore.”

Finding this to be increasingly true, I decided to embark upon a different reality.

It wasn’t too tough; going to blue collar bars and restaurants and simply chatting with people I know who voted for him, their Commander in Chief and our Chief Nemesis.

I have an acquaintance, I’ll call him Big Mike, who is unquestionably a good guy. He’s more than just “likeable.” So, I recently asked him straight out, Mike, how can someone with such a big heart vote for a person like Trump?

Mike caught my gaze and said this: “Listen man, I am not going to defend Trump. He can be a real asshole. Do I think he’s a nice person? Of course not. But I always vote, and America has two parties. And I’m not going to play games and write-in Aaron Judge or Willie Nelson.”

I thought: Hmm, a friendly biracial Yankee slugger or a much loved, warm and weedy country balladeer from Texas? We could do worse. Mike continued.

“And the other party, the Democratic Party, has become the Negro-homo-weirdo party.” (I admit that made me laugh).

“It really has. You know me, right? I like Black people. I work with some great Black guys. I have nothing against gay guys or ‘queer’ people. And all the hipsters downtown, no big. Live and let live, right?”

“But here’s the thing, man. The nonstop focus, all the fucking attention, on African American stuff and LGBT issues is crazy. It’s excessive. The day Democrats stop talking about this stuff over and over, and start talking about border security, and following the law, and what our farmers and factory workers need, I may come back again.”

“I keep hearing all the things wrong with America or how we treat Black people like it’s still 1950, and that’s just bullshit. Your side needs more positivity, man. And like two ounces of patriotism.”

“So I pulled the lever for the asshole last November. And guess what? There are millions and millions of Americans like me.”

To say I walked away from my exchange with Big Mike slightly off balance would be an understatement. What he said to me kept replaying in my head. He wasn’t trolling me, he meant what he said. Deeply so.

There was nothing I needed to say to counter him. There are of course 1,000 Yeah buts here. I know that. And yet I came to see – feel actually – that Mike saw us this way. And I saw this: that Donald Trump did not turn him on. We turned him off.

NOW, I GET BIG MIKE’S PERSPECTIVE. I really do. Of course, some of you may think I am being overly generous here, especially with Trump voters. I get it. So allow me to make the clear distinction between people who voted for Trump once or twice, and hardcore Trump supporters. You know, proud MAGA.

Many of them, frankly, I’m not interested in befriending, let alone defending. In a recent TIME magazine article on Bruce Springsteen, he a longtime Democrat, it addresses something that now haunts him: “…the very people he sings about have flocked to Trump.” The Boss said, “A lot of people bought into his lies. He doesn’t care about the forgotten anybody but himself and the multibillionaires who stood behind him on Inauguration Day.”

Bruce then went on to something else, something deeper, “You have to face the fact that a good number of Americans are simply comfortable with his politics of power and dominance.” That’s chillingly true.

So there are Trump voters like Big Mike, and members of the fanatical MAGA tribe. I think it will help all of us, Democrats especially, to make that key distinction going forward. If you have your antenna out, and are cool-headed and receptive, you’ll figure out which is which, and who is who.

It’s always wise to speak to people who do not have their ears gummed up with crazy fabrications or a bunch of nonsense, and who are open to an exchange.

If so, try talking. In person. And about things other than politics. Or him.

ONE FINAL NOTE. In that upstate bowling alley mentioned prior (located on a large inn established in 1838, 187 years ago, prior to the first Civil War), there was a small gift shop which, after a game of billiards, my wife and I perused.

Sure enough, we came home with maple syrup made at that inn and a handcrafted wooden American flag with the circle of the original thirteen stars. In the middle of the stars the artist painted 1776. It now hangs on the front of our home, facing the street.

Now, I’m not normally a big flag waver, but I did like this small, wooden, handmade flag. And while some of my more conservative neighbors – many of whom are big flag wavers – might think I’m on their team, my own street-facing message is not just common patriotism.

It’s a statement. A statement about what principles and revolutionary ideas this country was founded upon, and how some of those ideas and ideals are being trampled upon. Right now. Before our very eyes. On the eve of the nation’s 250^th birthday.

Now, I have to control myself, and fight like hell, not to scream at his supporters, and otherwise bite my tongue. It’s not easy. Before any name-calling or infuriated shouts, many of us surely think this: What are you refusing to see? And what the hell are you thinking?

But 10 years of yelling at each other online and during protests hasn’t changed much, has it? So go to a bowling alley, or a Vet’s parade, or a working class haunt, or, hell, a rifle range to do some target shooting. And just hang out. Soak it in.

After you calm yourself down, and relax a bit, and appear relaxed, maybe one or two people will come up to you and start talking. And with any luck you might just enjoy the convo. You might even make a new friend or find your own Big Mike.

Why and for what purpose you may ask? I happen think that kind of diversity – a diversity of income, educational and cultural backgrounds – makes for richer, more interesting friendships.

Oh, and come the 2028 national elections, we’re going to need them to win. We had many Middle American, blue collar folk in 1992 and 1996 with Bill Clinton. And we had plenty in 2008 with Barack Obama.

I for one would like to invite them back into the fold.