Since 1854 — News from Montcalm County and Ionia County, Michigan

By Mike Taylor | on July 21, 2022

I rarely wax political in these columns. It’s not that I don’t have opinions; I do. It’s just that I don’t care whether you share them.

My favorite color is that ’50s shade of aquamarine they often used on two-tone Chevys. Yours might be purple. So what? Granted, political opinions merit greater consideration, or did back when we had grown ups serving in Lansing and Washington.

Unfortunately, just lately many folks seem to put more thought into picking a favorite color than a senator. It’s hard to fault them for this, since candidate choices typically run the gamut from crappy to crappier to crappiest.

It’s like watching a football game — one of those grudge matchup things — between two teams from hometowns other than your own. It’s important to them who wins or loses, but you can’t help but suspect the outcome of the game won’t improve your life at all.

Instead of voting for a candidate or issue that might actually do some good, we pick a side and stick with it regardless of the facts or what it might mean for our own well-being. Rationality is irrelevant.

Our electoral system has become a soccer match. And like any good sporting event, the lead up to game night is filled with trash talk about the other team. The trashier, the better.

Candidates no longer simply disagree, they disparage. Every candidate, according to his or her opponent, is a despicable piece of garbage who wants to blow up the world, separate families, come fer yer guns, cut assistance to starving children, legalize marriages between farm animals and circus performers, drill holes in the ozone layer with Latvian lasers, tax walking for pleasure and pee in your drinking water.

Of course, no candidate really wants any of those things, but it doesn’t matter. Say it enough times (politicians have learned) and it becomes true, or at least true-ish. And that’s good enough for an electorate thirsty for easy answers to difficult questions.

It wasn’t always this way. I’m old enough to remember when serious men and women debated serious issues without resorting to ridiculous hyperbole. They didn’t try to scare their constituencies to death with deception, overstatements and blatant, flat-out lies. It was almost as if they thought we weren’t a bunch of idiots.

Alas, those days are gone and we’re getting exactly the government we deserve.

But sometimes there’s a bright, though admittedly narrow, beam of light that manages to shine into all this darkness. I saw it the other day on a yard sign.

I was out riding on one of our area’s excellent bike trails at the time. It stood out from all the others because it was a friendly shade of deep green rather than radicalized red or holier-than-thou blue.

It read simply, “PLEASE VOTE YES AUGUST 2 FOR 4-H EXTENSION & CONSERVATION.” The sign boasted no F-bombs, threats, insults or recriminations. It didn’t promise your life will be wonderful if you vote YES and a living hell if you vote NO.

And, miracle of miracles, it had the word “please” in it.

Now, I have only the vaguest notion of what 4-H Extension & Conservation even is, but you can bet I’m going to vote YES on that one.

Because I’ve had it with ugly. Ugly talk, ugly ideas, ugly debate. It’s what we’ve been fed almost non-stop for the past decade or two and I’m sick to death of it. My guess is you are, too.

I have friends on both sides of the political aisle, liberal snowflakes and militant conservatives. Talking with them I realize they’ve also become worn down by all the hate and vitriol. All but the most thoroughly indoctrinated would love nothing more than to see us all be Americans again. Disagreeing, yes. Arguing, yes. Campaigning strenuously for causes or candidates we can actually believe in, yes.

But in the end, all Americans, all playing for the same team. And doing so in such a fashion that at the end of the day, win or lose, we can shake hands and say, “Good game.”

Or maybe we’ve gone too far down this dark road to ever find our way back again. I dunno.

But that yard sign had the word PLEASE on it. That gives me hope.

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