First, the Curmudgeon wishes to set forth some mea culpas. Foremost, I often accuse the left of painting with too broad a brush.
Well, I do it, too.
Many of my posts label all Democrats, liberals, and those on the left as the same. Yet I know many reasonable Democrats. Some of my best friends and dearest loved ones are registered Democrats. I myself was once a registered Democrat, as I'll point out below. It does sometimes seem to me that the percentage of reasonable Democrats is similar to the percentage of Elizabeth Warren's Native American DNA (which is less than mine, by the way).
However, that's probably not the case. And I also know that a good many conservatives and Republicans are also unreasonable, and post the same uninformed memes and articles that many on the left do. We are divided. It is ugly. It needs to change.
I don't believe it will.
Second, I respect those whose opinions differ from my own. They are among my cherished friends and loved ones. I love them no less, and I hope we can all still be friends, and that our love for one another will prevail over all else, including our ideological differences. There are those among my loved ones of whom I am very proud for their stands and their work against various injustices, some of which I agree with, some of which I don't. My respect for them is the same nonetheless.
And third, in case anyone has missed the point, I am sarcastic to a fault. So, much of what I say, while intentionally over the top, is said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. I hope we all can laugh at ourselves. I laugh at myself on a daily basis - then, at my advanced age, I usually forget why I'm laughing.
Now, let me address the topic of this post. How did the Curmudgeon become a curmudgeon? I'm not talking about the economic aspect; I've already explained that. But how did I become a conservative? I hope my account of this journey will serve as a lesson to younger readers (and maybe older ones), to think for yourself, to really examine the positions of the two parties that control so much of our lives (and probably shouldn't), and to wrestle with the issues and come to their own conclusions about what ideologies they support, and which ones they don't.
I grew up in a family of confirmed Democrats. My Dad was a Democrat - I'd call him a Truman Democrat; he was, as far as I know, a strict party-line voter, but I have to believe he'd be appalled at what that party has become today. I'm sure he was pro-Second Amendment, and was anti-legal abortion. I don't believe he'd have supported open borders, and I'd like to believe he'd be against shouting conservative politicians and cabinet members out of restaurants.
As a result of my upbringing, when I was old enough to vote, I registered as a Democrat. In the first Presidential election I was old enough to vote in, I voted for Jimmy Carter. I even wrote a paper in support of Carter in my freshman English Comp class in college - which resulted in the worst grade I've ever received for a paper I've written, in part because I used Carter's own writings as support for my paper, and in part because the instructor was a die-hard conservative. (For the record, I've rarely received a poor grade for written work - if I can do nothing else, I can write.)
Then, I transferred to another college, and I progressed through my academic career there. After several changes of my major, I settled on business. I was working on campus, and my boss - a member of the faculty there - engaged me in a conversation about my political views. (That would probably get him fired today.)
He asked me what my party affiliation was. I replied that I was a Democrat. He asked me why. I told him that I was "born a Democrat."
He said, "No one is born a Democrat or a Republican. You're born black or white, you're born rich or poor, you're born right-handed or left-handed. But your political party affiliation is a matter of choice."
He then asked me if I understood the differences between the two parties' platforms, and I had to admit that I didn't. I'd always just accepted that I was supposed to vote "D" across the board because my parents did.
So he explained the two platforms to me, in very simple terms. He said that Democrats believe that the government can and should provide for all of our needs - health care, housing, employment and income, etc. - and that those who were more successful should pay higher taxes so that those who were less successful had the same things that those who were more successful had.
He then explained that the Republican platform was based on the ideal that America provides the opportunity for everyone to have those things - that we all have an equal right to the opportunity to have those things, but not equal right to the things themselves. That the Republican party believes that the government should provide for basic needs - security (military and police and other first responders), infrastructure (roads, bridges, etc.), and so forth. And the government should take care of those who absolutely cannot take care of themselves. But that, beyond that, we should all have equal opportunity, but those who work harder, work smarter, and are able to succeed, should be able to enjoy the fruits of their labors without excessive taxation.
In other words, the Republican platform was not the Marxist ideal of "from each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs" (we all saw how well that worked out for the Marxist
Soviet Union), but one of rewarding those who worked harder in availing themselves of the opportunities that a free-market, capitalistic society afforded.
As President Gerald Ford said, "If the government is big enough to give you everything you want, it is big enough to take away everything you have." That resonated with me. I didn't need the government to give me everything I wanted; that, I could grab on my own, given the opportunity. But I damn sure didn't want it to take away everything I had. King George would have wanted that. I didn't.
Here I was, a recent college grad entering an MBA program. I aspired to be a manager, maybe even a CEO someday. (Be careful what you wish for; I eventually became a CEO and the gig isn't all it's cracked up to be.) I figured I might make a decent living. I came from humble beginnings. Neither of my parents graduated from college, but they paved the way for me to do so, even if they couldn't pay for it.
I wanted to be able to keep whatever I earned, or as much of it as possible. I saw many of my high school classmates who didn't even enroll in college, who took the safe route of working in grocery stores or gas stations in our hometown, rather than taking the risks I took in taking out student loans, working hard through college, and trying to climb the ladder. I didn't want to be one of them, and I didn't want to have to subsidize them. I believed that the government should tax only to the extent it needed to, in order to provide defense, security, infrastructure, education, and means for those truly - truly - unable to provide for themselves, regardless of the opportunities afforded them. And that, in order to maintain taxes at that minimal level, government should spend only frugally.
So I switched my voter registration, and in 1984, I voted for Ronald Reagan.
I maintained that registration until about 2009. At that time, I felt that the Republican party had abandoned its roots. I felt that both parties had abandoned their roots, in fact; that both were solely interested in maintaining a permanent majority. Particularly, I felt that the Republicans had abandoned their platform plank of fiscal conservatism, and that runaway government spending had become an albatross hanging around the collective neck of all Americans, one that would require excessive taxation to fund the government largesse and pork that plagued Washington (and plagues it to this day).
It's important to note that, during the time I was a registered Democrat, I voted straight party-line, as I had been taught. But during the time I was a registered Republican, I voted my conscience. I voted for some Democrat candidates and some Republicans. I voted for Independents. I voted for Ross Perot for President in 1996. And in the 2016 election, I voted for Evan McMullin for President. I have never been a straight party-line voter, at least not since the days I was a registered Democrat.
Fast-forward to today. What I've seen from the Democrat party in the last several years - especially since Donald Trump, whom I voted against - has become President, has been so extreme, so vitriolic, so un-American, that I've become a straight party-line voter. I registered as a Republican in the recent primary election, reluctantly, because I wanted to vote in some key local races, for Republican candidates that I believed were better suited for office than others running on the GOP ticket. I may well change my registration to Democrat in the 2020 election, to vote for candidates that might derail any potential serious challenger to the Presidency or other key offices.
I don't like Donald Trump. I wouldn't want to have a beer with Donald Trump, other than for entertainment value. Much of what he says makes me cringe, or smack my head. But I'm on board with the policies of reduced regulation and taxes, of peace through strength globally, of truly fair trade, of respecting our military and police, of securing the American way of life for those born here and those who seek to come here through legal means, and of ensuring a Judicial Branch that is truly independent and Constitutionalist, that have become a hallmark of his administration. I can get past the rhetoric. What matters to me is the policy. That affects my life, and my children's and grandchild's futures. The rest of it is fodder for cable news soundbites, intended solely to pit right against left.
And so, until the Democrat party shows any sign of true willingness to work across party lines for the American people, and not solely for a permanent majority that will line the coffers of its elected officials, I fear I may become a straight party-line voter. That saddens me, as I have always believed that in a true Democratic Republic, one should weigh each candidate on the merits, and vote accordingly. Sadly, we're far from a Democratic Republic today. We are now Fox News vs. CNN and MSNBC.
However, the whole point of my discussion with my college professor is this: don't choose your party affiliation based on that of your parents or your spouse. You weren't "born" Democrat or Republican, and you don't marry into a political party. Think about what's important to you and choose for yourself. And if neither party appeals to you, there's nothing wrong with being Independent. (And for heaven's sake, above all else ... if you find that Socialism appeals to you, take some more history classes until you get over that phase.)
Now, on to Rudyard Kipling's best work:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
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