Book Trailer The Noble Train

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

One Last Argument

My dad and I had one  last argument on the phone today because this is it. Yeah go ahead and put that idiot in the White House in for another four years because he doesn't know what he was doing for the first four years! Better than that liar who says anything anywhere. You're just a bigot dad. That's right I'm a bigot against someone who doesn't know what they are doing. And so it goes. We are two men with maillots and we frequently yell. HE IS AN IDIOT WHO IS GOING TO TAKE AWAY MEDICARE AND GIVE YOU A VOUCHER! BETTER THAN SOMEONE TAKING MY MONEY LIKE THAT SOCIALIST!

At this point we are  both screaming. I usually hold out my cellphone for maximum projection and begin yelling a string of Romnesia fact points. My father who is from Virginia switches to singing Swanee River and doing his minstrel routine. At this point we have both degenerated into two fierce zealots who will yell ourselves horse before it is all over. HE IS AN IDIOT WHO IS GOING TO MAKE THE RICH RICHER. To which my father shoots back. THAT IS FINE BY ME. I DON'T WANT SOMEONE TELLING ME HOW MUCH I CAN MAKE. YOU DON'T MAKE ENOUGH DAD YOU ARE THE FORTY SEVEN PERCENT. BETTER THAN THE FIFTY THREE PERCENT.

Which makes no sense but we have left the world of making sense. Dad  is a Fox News watcher and I watch MSNBC. We have both become the talking heads of Sean Hannity and Lawrence O'Donnell with a little Ed of the Ed Show thrown in. You going to grow your hair out like Al Sharpton? Dad wants to know. I might I scream back. You are just a racist dad! That's my right. And so we roll on until...we start to laugh. It has become that absurd and somewhere we both know we have lost our minds. And this is always the way it goes.

I think somewhere we get our perspective back and we end up talking about family and money and the usual things father and sons talk about. And I have to say I enjoy our polemics, our screaming fits, and I will miss it now that the election is going to be over. There is something very good about a father and son playing whack a mole with each other and then laughing at how nuts it has all become. We both know we are a little crazy, but that's where we come together.

The question is, does everyone else?

Books by William Hazelgrove