A Free Country…For Now
He stuck out like a–well, I won’t say a sore thumb, but I’ll say it was something red and bothersome. At least to me.
This past weekend, I had the fortunate opportunity to spend two days at a posh Southern California resort for a work meeting, and the pool was more of a mini-waterpark complete with three pools, a lazy river, two waterslides, and a splash pad. My kids and I spent the downtime surrounding the conference in said pools and water attractions.
The standout was a man, two men actually, wearing Make America Great Again hats. One was obviously the father, an older man, whose MAGA cap appeared to be circa 2016, and the other was his son, whose MAGA cap was more up to the minute, the font of the hat doubled in size with a 45-47 on the side.
My liberal skin crawled.
My latte boiled in my hand.
I almost screamed into my NPR tote bag.
I did none of those things because, well, though I consider myself more left of center, I’m not from central casting of Liberandia, however… however, when you see a dude, so clearly pledged in allegiance to the MAGA cause, yet again, you notice. As I’m sure others did.
People wear things like that to make a statement. I imagine it’s half campaign rally cry, and half “I just love to make liberal weenies uncomfortable.” It kind of reminded me of the week of the 2016 election, when what’s his name won. I went to Trader Joe’s that week and I happened to be there when a woman was “shopping” regaled in MAGA wear, complete with some kind of American flag bead necklace. She obviously was not looking for olive tapenade.
Like the Victory Lap Trader Joe’s Lady, this dude wanted something: attention, validation, something. Aside from his hat, he happened to be covered in tattoos from neck to wrist, his children’s names on his chest, Jesus crowned in thorns on the man’s back. I didn’t know whether to look at the guy or read him. Oh, and he also had a righteous mustache. I was actually kind of envious of his meticulous facial hair.
So what does this all mean? Did their ploy work? Obviously it did, otherwise I would not be devoting a whole damn column to it. But something for me kind of changed in those two short days. I saw the man (and the grandfather) play with the kids and tend to the family and do all the things men do in those situations, their pride for theirs hats obviously very high as they never came off. And I thought to myself, “You do you.”
I certainly don’t agree with his choice of presidential hopefuls, and I’m praying our nation doesn’t swing again toward the red hats, but as a fellow American, as a fellow man, I can live and let live. I can honor him for his choices and opinions, because he’s entitled to them. We live in a free country, where–so far–we’re permitted to hold opposing political beliefs, and still be able to break bread at the same table.
At one point, on one of the many bridges criss-crossing this water Shangri-la, MAGA man and I passed each other so closely, we almost bumped into each other. He was talking with his family and I was trying to catch up to my sons. We shared one of those split second moments that people have when you’re in their space and they’re in yours, and so all you can say is “Excuse me.” Which was exactly what we said, then moved along.
So, does this make me a MAGA ally? Maybe not quite, but I realized that I can’t let the wardrobe choices of my fellow Americans drive me to anger. We just don’t have time for that anymore. All we can do now is excuse each other and hope for the best.
◊♦◊
Photo by Joe Calata on Unsplash
