Saturday, March 11, 2017

A Visit from Red State America

After running errands yesterday afternoon, I dropped in at a wine shop I occasionally frequent.  Sampling a few bottles trying to decide upon a purchase I struck up a conversation with the shopkeeper, Michelle.

Treetop’s a small town, and it doesn’t take long after moving here before half the people you see look familiar.  You also make a chatting acquaintance with folks working at the local businesses.  Michelle’s one of these acquaintances, and she made casual conversation with me in between waiting on other customers. Once we’d exhausted the usual topics, such as the weather, our respective weekend plans, and the press of tourists taking advantage of ski season, our talk drifted to politics.

Treetop has its share of Republicans, the Kiwanis and Rotary crowd, but I’ve heard few people of any persuasion around here speak favorably of Donald Trump.  Given the town’s public face as a freethinking home for artists and New Age devotees enjoying the good life, this isn’t surprising.  The conventional wisdom is that Treetop is a blue island in a red, albeit libertarian, sea.

Having last seen each other before the election, Michelle and I were quick to voice our mutual horror at the outcome.  She told me of a very awkward family holiday gathering where the pro-Hillary relatives bickered with the pro-Donald.  I told her I was the only member of my family who supported Clinton, though I didn’t think very many of them actually voted.

Seated a few stools down was a tourist nursing a glass of Prosecco.  He was a fireplug of a guy in his late twenties with a bushy beard and camouflage ball cap.  He ignored us, listlessly fiddling with his phone.  He ignored us until Michelle made an offhand comment that some of the Trump supporters she’d talked to seemed pretty closed minded.  Or something like that; it didn’t register as anything to respond to with more than a vague nod and an “Mmmhmm.”

Beardie jerked up his head and snapped at Michelle, “People like you can afford to think like that.”

Michelle was startled, and stammered that she hadn’t meant any offense.  Beardie would not be appeased so easily.

“Look,” he said. “You don’t see what it’s like for Americans.  You’re educated, making a good wage plus big tips, living in a place where nobody sees what’s going on in the real world.”  Michelle fidgeted uncomfortably, while a young couple in parkas and snow pants gazed sidelong at us from the far end of the counter.

“Well, there are different perspectives, don’t you think?” I said in a feeble attempt at shifting the discussion.  No dice.

“I know things you don’t,” proclaimed Beardie.  He went on to tell us that he worked as a contractor in cyber operations.  We didn’t know the threats surrounding the country.  Obama was weak on national security and made America vulnerable to its enemies.  Only Donald Trump could make us safe. 

I considered throwing Trump’s statement that he didn’t need daily intelligence briefings because he’s so smart at Beardie, but thought better of it.  Instead I said that Trump won because he preyed on working peoples’ fears and resentments.  It’s globalization, automation, and offshoring which are behind their troubles, which are beyond the ability of any president to fully remedy.  Meanwhile, Michelle used my futile effort at reasoning with the guy to slip away and wait on a new customer.  

At least I was able to change the subject, or at least spin it in a different direction.   Beardie retorted, rapping his knuckles on the counter for emphasis, “You know who’s responsible for dividing this country…Obama!  Everything was just fine until he was President!”

“I’m pretty sure this country’s been divided longer than that.  In fact, it’s been divided as long as I can remember.”

“No, it wasn’t!  No, it wasn’t!  It was Obama!  I know things you don’t!”  Yeah, I think you said that already.  This fellow’s nearly half my age, and he’s learned so much.  I guess I should have been awed, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

“I’m not a dumb guy,” Beardie went on.  “I went to UCLA.  I work in cyber ops.”  Yes, you mentioned that, too.  By this point I was reduced to enduring his verbal onslaught until he spent himself, fervently hoping this point would come sooner than later.

“Obama endangered this country by letting in all the illegals.”  Really?  The former Deporter-in-Chief would be mighty disappointed to hear this.

“And it’s not just the Mexicans.  You should’ve seen Washington after the Women’s March!  Trash everywhere, water bottles, paper, they have no respect for themselves or anybody!”  Hmmm, you must never have been to a rock concert or street parade.  But, okay.

“And they burn the American flag!  The women, the illegals, the Bernie supporters, they all burn the flag!” 

That’s interesting.  I’m fifty years old.  I’ve lived and traveled in countries where Americans aren’t particularly popular.  And I have never, ever seen Old Glory desecrated in my presence.  I begin to point this out, but Beardie cuts me off.  After all, the winner of any debate is the one who shouts loudest, right?

Beardie continued to lay into his country’s adversaries, real and imagined.  “They don’t know how good they have it.”  Who?  Liberals? Women? The “illegals”?  He didn’t say.

“They take out student loans and use the money to take vacations and spend their time going to demonstrations.  Then when they’re unemployed and stuck with student debt they expect me to support them with my taxes!  Thirty percent of student loans are used just for vacations and cars and clothes!  Can you believe that?”

“Wait a minute,” I managed to interject, “thirty percent?  Where’d you get that statistic?”

It seemed like a reasonable question, but Beardie looked at me as if I’d gored his sacred cow.  He’d quoted a fact.  I should just accept it at face value.  Just like he accepts the facts, true or otherwise, spouted by his idol.

Beardie stammered a couple of seconds, then said, “Scarborough.  I heard it on Scarborough’s show.  You know who Scarborough is, right?” 

As an insomniac, Morning Joe on MSNBC has been staple early morning viewing.  So, yes, I know who Republican congressman turned news host Joe Scarborough is despite being a brie-snarfing, rosé-swilling anti-Trump pantywaist.  Still, I find it hard to believe that Beardie got this from MSNBC or any other mainstream news outlet.

I began to say as much when Beardie’s phone buzzed.  Holding up an imperious finger to silence me, he answered and almost immediately began yammering agitatedly.  A moment later he threw a twenty on the counter and, still unleashing a verbal torrent at whoever was on the other end, hurried out the front door.  (Must’ve been a ultra top secret cyber ops matter.)

As the door slammed shut, Michelle, the young couple from the ski slopes, and I stared at each other mutely for a moment.  What the hell just happened?  One of us finally spoke up.  We talked awkwardly about the previous few minutes, then moved on to other subjects.  A pall hung in the air, though, and after a few minutes I paid and left.  As I walked out, I saw Beardie leaning against a wall still braying into his phone.  He ignored me as I walked past.

You might think I’m making up this vignette, or at least exaggerating.  But it happened nearly verbatim.  Trump’s devotees object to being stereotyped as bigoted and stupid.  The reasonable part of me wants to believe that this is in fact a stereotype.  But when a piece of confirming evidence manifests itself right in front of you, you can’t ignore it. 

Who needs strawmen when you have Trump supporters like this?



© 2017 The Unassuming Scholar 

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