When a staunch conservative invites his Democratic canvasser to coffee
The fact was, as exasperating as this conversation was, it was actually kind of fun, invigorating even. We had a lot more doors to get to but for some reason I felt an urge to keep pushing.
It was a conversation that, had I known what it would end up being, I would have recorded. In hindsight, it’s impossible to remember the chronology because it followed no logical path owing to the fact that the man I was talking to – on his front porch during a canvass – bounced happily from one conservative talking point to the next, but with such alacrity I was content to go along for the ride.
Adding to the fun and intrigue was that my fellow canvasser – a first-timer – was witnessing his very first voter engagement. As such he stepped back and just watched. What he witnessed, I can’t say, because I was right in the middle of this one-man whirlwind of confidence and self-contradiction, trying to gauge early on if this could possibly be worth my time.
He started by identifying as a staunch conservative and when I said, great, but let me tell you about my friend Lee Snodgrass who’s running for state assembly, he cut me off to ask if she was a Democrat and told me he couldn’t vote for Democrats because …. ‘Socialism’ and ‘don’t know what a woman is.’
I laughed and asked him if he didn’t agree there were real and important issues out there and he agreed that there were. I told him about Lee’s work in the district, including getting grant money for things like childcare, which was in crisis in the state. I pointed out that not only did that help people who desperately needed it but it actually helped the economy.
He actually agreed, then was on to talking about “moochers,” and I said, but we’re not talking about that. We’re talking about taking care of folks who need help and how that helps society and the economy.
He pivoted to wondering where that grant money came from and asked me how I felt about the $40 trillion deficit. I said, but money that helps society and our economy is worth it, wouldn’t you agree? He did agree, then pivoted to homelessness and how NGOs are ripping off the government and don’t really want to help the homeless but just want to make money and … something about handing out crack pipes in California.
I said, you don’t really believe people are getting rich off the homeless, do you? He wasn’t sure where he’d heard that, but he believed it. I said, if you’re worried about corruption, what are your thoughts on President Trump adding $2 billion to his wealth in less than two years and doing so by openly violating the emoluments clause? He blamed Congress for not doing anything. I said, but that’s his own party letting him do that. Your party. He said, well, Democrats do that stuff too.
But they don’t have any power right now, I pointed out.
He laughed and said, “you know, I’m enjoying this. I bet you and I could hash this all out over coffee some time.”
The fact was, as exasperating as this conversation was, it was actually kind of fun, invigorating even. We had a lot more doors to get to but for some reason I felt an urge to keep pushing. He brought up charity and the churches and said that’s the way we used to handle need in this country. I pointed out that, as well-intentioned and admirable random bits of charity are, they don’t even begin to scratch the surface of the need out there and do nothing to address the systemic problems that underlie that need.
Then it was back to the deficit. By then we had shaken hands three times like lifelong buddies who couldn’t bear to part from each other. But good friends cut each other off and while he was rambling on about how we can’t keep spending like we’re spending I interrupted: “Joel. Joel! Are you aware that 28 percent of that $40 trillion of national debt occurred in Trump’s six years in office?”
He said he didn’t really care who was responsible for it. I can’t remember if I slapped my forehead at that point, but I do have a bright red mark there this morning.
We shook hands a few more times and I worried he was about to say, “I love you, man.”
Before I left, Iran came up and even though he had just bemoaned all the forever wars and how we need to spend our money here at home … he was, of course, a big fan of what Trump was doing there cuz … nuclear bombs and Jimmy Carter and other assorted half-baked stuff. Troops on the ground there were fine with him, he said.
Before we left, I said to him, we’re not going to agree on much, but now that we’re buddies will you trust me that Lee Snodgrass is a person of integrity, one that focuses on making this district better. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t believe that with all my heart. And will you consider voting for her in November?
He said he would and he said it earnestly. And we shook hands one more time and finally headed to the next door.
If there’s a point to all this, I’m not entirely certain what it is. I’ll leave that to your own interpretation. Here’s how my canvass buddy interpreted it as we crossed the street: “Wow,” he said.
