November 13, 2007
Some things ought not be discussed
I joined Mom and Bob up on the 10th-deck lounge overlooking the bow for the daily trivia contest.
When I arrived, they were sitting with a blowsy-haired fifty-something woman and her remarkably well-preserved ninety-year-old mother, working on the answer to the second question. I pulled up a chair, was introduced to the two women, and began brainstorming with the rest of the team.
The daughter – let’s call her “Cindy Sheehan” – is a therapist who was traveling with her mom and her “partner.”
We were all getting along, having a good time puzzling out the arcane answers to the questions posed by the young cruise director, who paused after reading one to tell us that, yes, the questions were America-centric – with apologies to the non-American passengers.
Cindy Sheehan leaned forward and said to me, “I’m glad he acknowledged that.”
“Why?” I asked, “Are you Canadian?”
“No,” she answered, “But I have a lot of Canadian friends, and talk with them all the time about how much we hate this government.”
She smiled, leaned closer and with a gleam in her eye, said, “They’ve destroyed this country.”
I didn’t react, wanting to see what she’d say next.
My mother interrupted her, asking, “Well, where else would you want to live? It’s still the best country in the world.”
Cindy Sheehan didn’t skip a beat.
“Oh, Canada, definitely! My partner and I would move there tomorrow, but –“ she gestured at her elderly mother, “I couldn’t leave Mom.”
She made a few more comments about George Bush, illegal wars, Halliburton and global warming, and then we resumed play.
We made a good team – moonbat politics notwithstanding – winning the contest, claiming our tastefully-understated keychains, then shook hands and moved on to other leisurely pursuits as we sailed the high seas.
What I found so interesting about Cindy Sheehan was her assumption that, because we seemed like smart, well-educated people, we simply had to agree that the nation was being destroyed by the eeeeevil Re-thug-licans, led by Chimpy McBusHitler.
It reminded me of the late Pauline Kael, the Manhattan-based film critic, who lamented after Richard Nixon’s landslide victory in 1972, “I don’t understand how he won. Nobody I know voted for him!”
I’m not shy about speaking my mind, but I’m mindful that there are times (and places) where my opinions on sex, politics and religion are best kept to myself, and in the interests of meeting as many interesting people as possible, avoid those subjects while traveling.
Avoiding these topics in the company of strangers used to be the most basic precept of social etiquette, one that has sadly fallen into disuse in these less civilized times. What I find most fascinating about this encounter is Cindy’s inability to recognize that a not-insignificant portion of her fellow travelers – in the Holland America sense, not ComSymps – might be offended by her anti-American rhetoric. After all, most Americans – even liberals! – don’t hate this country, or admit that they’d rather live elsewhere.
Another example of this behavior was on exhibit recently in San Francisco. Shocking, I know.
I had finished doing some active-duty JAG work with the troops at Camp Roberts and headed north to the Bay Area to spend some time with my cousin and her family.
There was a vintage poster show being held at the Fort Mason Center, so I stopped in to see what the dealers had on display. Sipping wine and eating sinfully-delicious pate, I stood by one booth as the owner kept up a running commentary while his assistant moved the brilliantly-colored lithographs from left to right.
Most of what he had to say had little or nothing to do with the artists or posters being shown, focusing instead on the depredations of Dick Cheney, our idiot president, and the unjust and illegal war in Iraq.
As is my custom, I smiled encouragingly and sipped my wine; he didn’t disappoint, upping the rhetoric to black helicopter territory.
Here’s the thing: these lithographs range in price from $600 to well north of $10,000, and I’d presume that – notwithstanding his fever-dreams of living in a socialist utopia – he’d like to sell some and turn a nice profit. So why indulge in an opportunity to offend potential customers?
I know, he probably figured he was amongst friends, what with the show being in the most anti-Bush city in the world. But, I can’t have been the only undercover conservative with an appreciation for the lost art of stone lithography, brilliant-hued lead-based pigments and stunning graphic design of the 1920s, ‘30s and ‘40s – as well as a credit card with plenty of headroom left.
I’m not saying that cruiseship Cindy or power-to-the-people Poster Guy ought to be silenced; hell, I like to know who the nutjobs are, and it’s great when they out themselves.
But the social fabric that ostensibly binds us together as a nation becomes a bit more tattered and threadbare when our fellow citizens – er, comrades -- forget that not everyone agrees with or wants to listen to their bilious ranting and barking-at-the-moon ravings.
That’s what blogs are for.
So, in a roundabout way, I guess I’m longing for the days when we could enjoy each others’ company, meet interesting people on ocean voyages, and not end each encounter feeling like I’d been covered in the psychic muck of some stranger’s deepest, darkest, most passionately held hatreds and obsessions.
Posted by Mike Lief at November 13, 2007 04:41 PM
| TrackBack
Comments
I had the same experience on a train. But I dared speak my mind a bit because the dear woman was "inebriated", just to have a little fun at her expence.
Posted by: Sonarman at November 18, 2007 09:41 AM
And I bet you weren't likely to see her over and over again for the next week, either.
I held my tongue and kept things light ... but the thought of engaging in an intense exploration of her deeply anti-American views was mighty appealing.
Posted by: Mike Lief at November 19, 2007 11:19 PM