Use the Word 'Liberal' Conservatively

It wasn't long ago I found myself holding a fishing rod in a boat along with two other gentlemen on a nice sunny day when the banter took a turn for the worse and I found myself pinned between two warriors, each intent on making their point at the other's expense.

To my right, manning the outboard motor at the stern, was Vernon the Conservative. He was a Republican and dead set against giving away the country's wealth with reckless abandon. No matter how desperate things are, providing for those on welfare and unemployment was not as important as the national debt. Numbers on paper are more important than feeding the hungry. Handouts from the government should be preceded with a closer inspection and while this meant the hungry would wait and some would lose their houses, this tactic would provide incentive for the lazy to turn off their television sets, get up, go to work, and fix the ailing economy. Government relief should be dispersed judiciously taking great care that we don't go overboard. Vernon knew money didn't grow on trees and passing it around like water would take a toll somewhere and that "somewhere" would likely be his own wallet. All the idle sloths milking the system should be content with what they have, or lift themselves by their boot straps to improve their wretched lives. The choice was theirs.

Up in the bow, or the left wing, Louie the Liberal was hoisting or dropping the anchor as we tried new spots. A Democrat, Louie was a former fork-lift operator at an auto assembly plant in the Midwest before he was laid off. He viewed the antiquated reasoning of the old fashioned conservative as a throw-back to medieval times when kings lavished in excess while their hard-working subjects toiled in the fields with no hope of improving their lives. Why everyone couldn't just 'join hands, share the wealth, and be friends' was a mystery to him. Louie believed altruism, when expanded upon, could end world famine, terrorism, and war.

Like Vernon, Louie was sure everyone felt the same way he did. He knew, in his very bones, that terrorism was simply a miscommunication and the result of people not getting along and loving one another and this problem could be remedied through peace, goodwill, and understanding. At times Louie envisioned people from all over the world joining hands and singing Kumbayah, perhaps around a campfire. He was introduced to this concept by his third grade teacher and he never let go.

Well, Conservative or Liberal, we were all in the same boat now and if these two intellectuals didn't put a sock in it soon we'd all be fish bait. Rule number one, in any boat is sit down but these two knuckle-heads were reenacting the final scene in A Few Good Men. "You want the truth? You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!" It was a good thing I didn't have a gun because I'd consider careful aim 'gun control'. I'd keep pulling the trigger until I ran out of bullets and then I'd throw the dam thing at them.

Many boats involve as much maintenance as a horse stable and cost a lot of money too. They have been described as a "circle made out of wood surrounded by water into which one pours money". Indeed, the two best days of a boat owner's life are the day he first buys the boat and the day he sells it. Which day is actually the most celebrated is a tossup. This same paradox carries over into politics, in some cases, when the two greatest days in a voter's life are the day a charismatic candidate is voted in and four years later when the same nincompoop is voted out. Much can be learned in four years, but wisdom comes with a price.

But getting back to boats, no matter how big, how monstrous in size, the moment it's dropped in water it mysteriously shrinks like your favorite T-shirt. Instantly, after the official launching, any vessel larger than the one you're in will catch an envious eye.

Our boat had wasted away to nothing and nearly sank on the spot once the debate got in full swing. Things got crowded real quick once these egotistical eggheads were running off at the mouth. Trapped in the middle, at first I thought the argument was for my benefit since the two men knew I chose ignorance over arrogance. Life seems too short to worry about things I have little control over so, to me, arguing over politics makes as much sense as arguing over the weather. It's like "two fleas arguing over who owns the dog." I see a more simple choice in life; either make the most of what I have and enjoy it as best as possible or argue and fight with others and be miserable just to prove a point. The vehicle in which one travels is not as important as the direction one takes.

At times I couldn't tell if the two were fighting over politics, religion or reason. Each man spoke loud and clear as if an invisible audience was perched on the edge of their seat applauding the brilliance and passion that spouted from their mouths. They knew so much about politics and human nature I thought it a terrible waste that neither had taken such a path. It was clear either man would have led the country to a brighter day had the populace discovered such genius. All their tight-fisted passion was wasted on me, however I'd rather catch a fish.

I focused on fishing and wished I could close my ears or their mouths. I came out here to get away from stuff like this. All this political talk buzzing around my head and all I could think about was a law to prohibit such behavior within twenty yards of a fishing pole. Democrat or Republican, Liberal or Conservative, any fish down there with a good head on his shoulders would head for the hills with this endless rant going on overhead. I knew the two 'armchair generals' wouldn't get any bites because they were making gestures with their fishing rods and pointing them and shaking them at each other. Politics really brings out the "best" in people.

My attempt to quiet the two was futile. I asked them what would be the first two things either of them would do if they were the president which was answered with cynical replies of what they "would not do" as they echoed the administration's current policies. It was easier to take pot shots at what was being done rather than fix things or come up with better ideas.

The two combatants were equally intent on finding flaws in the other's thinking as they were in proving the merit of their own noble decree. Slinging mud consumed half the battle which had escalated to such efficiency that now nasty insinuations began flying back and forth like a bizarre game of hot potato. Vernon snickered and spit out the term "a bleeding heart liberal" to which Louie countered with "the prehistoric mind-numbing right-wing extremist" and stuck his tongue out and wiggled his fingers from his ear with his free hand.

Me, I just wanted to enjoy the fresh air, the sun, and catch bass, but by now these two "geniuses" had locked horns and felt they had been appointed as spokesmen for the entire human race. I hadn't voted for either of them, but it made no difference. They climbed onto their respective soap boxes and spewed their viewpoints regardless. They weren't happy unless they were angry and this was their moment. They spoke of people's rights, peace, and justice, but if you were watching them on television with the sound turned off, you'd see two dogs barking at each other. This performance was getting old quick. I just shook my head and looked out over the water.

Vernon threw a left jab with "a conservative is a liberal who just got mugged" and caught Louie off guard. Vernon's assault struck home and it seemed he had wounded the Liberal. Soon, he'd go in for the coup d' tat. Victory was within sight.

But Louie hung on. The debate plowed along as each side proudly waved their flag, quoted the Constitution, and scoffed at each other's words. I began humming "Glory Glory Hallelujah" as the boat rocked back and forth; starboard and port, causing my bait to rise and fall making certain no fish in his right mind would see this as something natural. The other boats had left shortly after the fish left. I wished I left with them.

The worms on our hooks had lost their allure and I felt now would be a good time to put everybody's differences aside and suggested we try fresh night crawlers. The worms jumped at the opportunity to exit the boat and volunteered for bait duty. Anything would be better than listening to these long-winded, hot air inflated, know-it-alls. "Take me! No, take me!" they shouted.

Things quieted down for a minute until Louie noticed Vernon about to put an entire worm on his hook instead of the usual half a' worm. Louie protested this blatant act of greed which was answered with the whining reply "I'm just being liberal with the worm." The word "liberal" was delivered in a decidedly mocking tone which enraged Louie to no end. I wasn't keeping score but it looked like the Conservatives had the ball on the nine and it was 1st and goal.

The moment Vernon saw Louie's sour reaction he couldn't resist rubbing salt in the wound and went for the jugular: "there seems to be a 'liberal' amount of mosquitoes around here" as he slapped his arm and cried out "I got one!" Vernon was pleased with himself.

Then, Vernon threw his head back and erupted into a maniacal laugh not unlike Dr. Frankenstein after the reanimation of dead flesh through the clever use of a lightning bolt. It was an evil laugh accompanied with that obscene little dance you see in the end zone after a touchdown. He was wagging his self-righteous ass to the world and having the time of his life when he slipped, lost his balance, and went overboard in one quick second.

The pleasant "Ker-plop!" Vernon made as he disappeared into the Cahulawassee River unleashed a violent, yet welcome volley of uncontrolled laughter that bordered on hysteria and asphyxiation. Louie and I never experienced such rampant hilarity and feared we'd pass out.

Finally, in a staggering, drunken manner, I grasped and tossed a couple life vests into the water toward Vernon, tears streaming down my face. At this, "Laughing Louie" began stamping his feet on the floor of the boat, running in place, signifying something even more outrageous occurred to his uncontained mind that he was helpless to convey. Clutching his side in agony, he croaked "Don't be too liberal with the life jackets! Don't go overboard!" At this, I nearly fell out of the boat myself and collapsed onto the seat behind me and began laughing all over again, worse than before.

Once everything settled down and we realized Vernon couldn't climb back inside and we were unable to haul him in, things became serious. Serious, that is, until we put our heads together and decided to start the engine and head towards shore with Vernon hanging onto the side of the boat. Once we got underway we had to look away from Vernon or risk another laughing assault, which we had no control over. We'd avert our eyes but even catching Vernon's wake out of the corner of an eye elicited horse-like whinnies and nasal sounds similar to an engine turning over but failing to start. The more we laughed, the madder Vernon became and the madder he got the more we laughed. All three of us were helpless victims of emotion, some nice, some not so nice.

People in other boats sensed something going on and suspected we caught something so big we couldn't get it into the boat. People pointed, heads turned, and some were even standing and shielding their eyes from the sun to get a better view. All they could hear was laughing and all they could see was splashing alongside our boat.

By this time Louie and I couldn't even look at each other or we'd explode. Words weren't necessary; we were both riding the same storm. Our sides hurt and we knew we'd pay for this later.

Putting Louie at the wheel might have been a mistake. At full throttle, Vernon's legs came to the surface and it almost looked like he was having fun. When Louie backed off with the gas Vernon's legs would sink. At one point, with his hand on the throttle, Louie asked if I wanted to see the boat "do the cha-cha" and began alternately opening and closing the throttle. Louie was enjoying this too much so I insisted on relieving him at the helm which turned into a greater mistake when I saw him reaching for the camera.

A moment before he caught Vernon on film, Louie turned in my direction and with a straight face commanded me to be more liberal and not so conservative with the gas. This nearly achieved the desired results but once he aimed the camera at Vernon and said "now smile", victory was in the bag.

I thought this extremely rude while Louie was thinking "YouTube". What happened to everybody holding hands singing Kumbayah, I wondered? These vindictive die-hards argued on land and now at sea. I wanted no part of this. I remained neutral. I wished I had a video of both of them. Maybe they wouldn't take themselves so seriously once they saw how they looked.

Louie's video went viral the following week and their friendship, if there ever was one, never recovered. I was careful who I went fishing with from then on but I never laughed like that again. I laughed to myself and thought if I had a bigger boat I'd invite them again and maybe a member of the Tea Party just to round things out.

Some of what they said actually made sense so I decided I was part Liberal and part Conservative but preferred to remain anonymous for now. Once beliefs are labeled one way or the other they become stagnant, limited, biased, and narrow and the most valuable element, free will, goes right out the window, or overboard as it were.