Don's Tuesday Column

THE WAY I SEE IT by Don Polson      Red Bluff Daily News 9/27/2024

        Friendships strained over politics

First, an anecdote about toilet paper and camping. We (well, mostly me using the campground “facilities” so we don’t fill our “holding tank” to capacity) have observed the “quality” of toilet paper in the vault toilets and port-a-potties. I say, with a wry smile, it’s a challenge to use paper so thin that you could read bold type lettering through it. It’s an ironic joy to get somewhere with a normal thickness that doesn’t require multiple 6-foot sheets to do the job. Hence, our ultimate reward of getting to our Bend, OR, home with two-ply paper and flush toilets. Oh, the luxury.

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Here’s a weekly reminder that the Republican election headquarters is up and running, and seeking supporters to fill afternoon and early evening slots to hand out election materials, take voter registrations, etc. Come for camaraderie, as well. That’s at 748 Main St; the former Ramsey jewelers.

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Some readers may have had similar experiences to our interactions with friends or family with whom relations have been strained, or broken, over political issues and candidates. We on the conservative side of the spectrum don’t usually bring up politics (or religion, as the saying goes) among folks near or distant, either warm or casual friends. (This is not an attempt to “shoehorn” proscribed commentary on national issues into a column)

One friend of occasional but long-lasting acquaintance habitually posted anti-Trump commentary on her Facebook page; we removed our attention. A relative posted “Trump is the anti-Christ” on her page, prompting silent treatment, ignoring contacts for a while before restoring non-political conversations. I’ll say it is refreshing, even comforting, to have relatives and friends, that we know share our beliefs, with whom we can express honest thoughts on politics and culture.

Then, we have the case of someone we first got to know as a camp host some 30 years ago at an Odell Lake campground, whose friendship we renewed each season. After we lost track of him, it was on a ski lift chair that we recognized his unique voice and realized “Kevlar” (a childhood nickname) was a skier.

His “bombing downhill” style left us parting ways for the trails back to the base, but after-ski visiting filled us in on his life, which included his modest properties in the Crescent and Sunriver areas, as well as his latest female companion. We enjoyed meeting them, including one who owned a nice home on Aubrey Butte overlooking Bend; her unexpected death saddened us all.

He was always a giving person and endeared himself with his inventive ways to complement others’ lives. We let him stay at our Bend home to recuperate after a hip replacement. Staying in touch over the years, and not seeing him on the slopes, it was a surprise to find he had relocated to the coastal Newport area, living with an elderly lady as a caretaker and friend. We’d stay in touch when planning our forays to the Oregon coast, usually visiting them or getting together for a meal out, like for her 90^th birthday this last trip.

However, we were reluctant to get in touch last year; we’d had a rather disturbing, vituperative political exchange. We knew over the years that he was a devoted NPR/PBS consumer with left-leaning views. Our conversations were polite with some back-and-forth, and open questions which led to thoughtful sharing.

However, we’d had a phone call that veered, absent our suggestion, into politics. We were on the receiving end of an emotionally hateful spewing of condemnation and accusations directed at Donald Trump and, by extension, our own beliefs, which had never been disrespected until then. It was, to us, the very definition of what is, accurately, “Trump Derangement Syndrome.”

No effort was made that year to contact him, until he called and issued an apology of sorts for his rude conversation. Again, only the disturbing phenomenon of “T.D.S” could explain this transformation from friendly, “agree to disagree” exchanges, to hateful hectoring.

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Our sometimes “off the grid” summer camping has included available internet, either at RV parks (wi-fi), or via a phone “hot spot.” It’s not without limits: an RV park’s “metering,” or a 30 gigs-per-month plan. If reception is adequate, we can watch a Trump rally; it’s a refreshing way to stay in touch with our favored, beloved candidate, and know our monthly contribution is well-deserved.

Having restored interacting with “Kevlar,” we simply mentioned on a phone call that we now had enough internet in our Bend home to watch an upcoming Trump rally. That “triggered” his T.D.S. to the point that all we could hear was a nonstop harangue about Trump, without a break for our input. The only thing I wanted to tell him was that he, as well as all his NPR/PBS, MSNBC/CNN, etc. sources of news and opinion were full of “bovine excrement.” ‘Nuff said. (Me: Relevance to another “apparent assassination attempt” on Trump?)