For any of you who’ve had politics come between you and your family this article is one I’m sure many of us can relate to. Sit down, read it through, take a deep breath and think about picking up the phone.
My dad is conservative. I’m not. For our relationship to survive, we had to stop talking politics.
By Joe Hagan from Reader’s Digest Magazine
Things were going great. On the last night of our family reunion two years ago, my 62-year-old father and I walked along a beach in South Carolina, glasses of wine in our hands, and soaked in the warm air, the full moon, and the gravity of the years. I’m my dad’s first child and only son, now married with three kids, a career, and a mortgage. From the surf, we could both see his grandchildren silhouetted in the glowing windows of the rented beach house. The moment for a toast had arrived.
And that’s when my dad started talking about the Tea Party.
Somewhere along the way, my dad had come to believe that trying to sell me on his conservative politics was the equivalent of bonding. His opining, however, has always had the same effect on me: My jaw clenches, my back stiffens, and the charge of political discord transforms the most beautiful moon on the East Coast into a naked lightbulb hanging in an interrogation room. Suddenly, I’m trapped with a right-wing pundit who happens to be my dad.