I was sitting on my front steps the other evening talking to one of my favorite neighbors, a Democrat, and happened to mention that I couldn’t believe the congress put SS and by default, medicare, at risk in a supplemental funding bill for that damn war in Afghanistan. “What have we done, become, I am so damn angry at our country now.” Okay, I meant leadership which seems to be about 10 steps behind the polls. She narrowed her school marm eyes and started backing away (uh, uh) so in a placatory (and let’s face it, stupid move) I began talking about Obama’s penchant for charter schools instead of properly funded public schools and how I didn’t trust Obama. She turned and moved quickly away from the offending neighbor.
When living in Chicago, I often picked up my anti-war, anti-bombing of Iraqi children signs and walked down the street to the bus stop for the next rally. On the way to the bus stop, a large family of adults who always seemed to be home sat on their steps and glared at me muttering various and sundries which I couldn’t always make out – but words sometimes floated – “commie”, “bitch”, “terrorist lover.” Festooned on their porch and really any place where possible, were American flags. And they each wore pins, red, white and blue t-shirts, and a scowl for the unworthy traitor passing by. Ironically, I had a flag on my porch after 9/11 for about two weeks in honor of the victims and my uncles who had served (some died) in WW II, and my lefty friends disapproved. When my godchild visited from Italy where she lived now, she was confused at the proliferation of flags and other symbols. What was the purpose? I understood we needed to do something – a symbolic need, a communal need. My flag disappeared after a bit. Hmmm -who would do such a thing? BTW, at the beginning of our rallies, many bystanders hurled plenty of names at our somewhat small groups, which swelled and outnumbered them as the days passed.