Mourning in America

Politically, it's fair to say that I am a child of the Ronald Reagan era. In the late 1970s, I was just old enough and perceptive enough to understand that things were really sucking donkey balls in America. I kept hearing about "inflation" and "recession" on TV. The Russians had invaded some place called Afghanistan. There was an "energy crisis." There were some 50-odd American "hostages" in "Iran" and the evening news would keep count of the days they had been held. "Day 73," this Ted Koppel guy would intone. "America Held Hostage."

In the midst of this mess, every once in a while, this fellow in a suit and tie would come on TV—usually interrupting one of my favorite shows—to talk about one or more of these problems. This was The President. "Jimmy Carter" was his name, and he struck even me—yes, me, a bookwormish 94-pound 8-year-old with a tragic bowl cut—as a colossal wuss. Even I could figure out that this guy would have trouble running a Cub Scout meeting, much less an entire country.

Then, in 1981, Ronald Reagan took office, and from my admittedly provincial viewpoint—i.e., fourth grade—things started slowly but surely getting better. We got our people back from Iran. The economy, after tanking miserably in the short term, recovered with a vengeance. And Americans started feeling good about themselves again. I would listen to Reagan's speeches and find myself in agreement with most of them.

By the time 1984 rolled around, I was a staunch conservative Reaganite, subscribing to the National Review and slapping a "Reagan-Bush '84" bumper sticker on my eighth-grade locker. I really and truly admired Ronald Reagan. He wasn't perfect, certainly. But he got the big things right—just like FDR, Abraham Lincoln, and others before him.

I have voted for Democrats when circumstances have warranted. But largely because of Reagan's influence during my formative years, I tend to vote Republican and have worked for Republicans in the past. I don't have anything against "The Guv'mint" per se, but I do think it sticks its nose in too many places it doesn't belong and tends to grow in inverse proportion to its effectiveness. I dislike paying taxes for things that the private sector can take care of as well or better, and I especially dislike paying taxes for no other reason than to allow elected officials to buy off special interest groups to perpetuate their own political power. I have always been a fan of an H.L. Mencken aphorism, which I paraphrase: "Whenever A annoys or injures B on the pretense of saving or improving X, A is a scoundrel." That pretty much sums up my view of government spending and taxation.

But in recent years, I've found myself all over the map politically—and for that, believe it or not, I have Ronald Reagan to thank. Let me explain. On so-called "social issues," I guess I'm kind of a mish-mash. Take homosexuality, the big social issue of this year. I am, I suppose, an apostate to the traditional conservative set. My belief is that homosexuality is more or less a congenital trait that, in practice, does not affect anyone else in any substantive way. Therefore, discrimination against homosexuals should not be tolerated in the public sector.

However, I am generally against any effort to impose nondiscrimination policies in the private sector. For one thing, unlike some other forms of discrimination, I believe the market is taking care of this one on its own. In this day and age, with the homosexual demographic as affluent as it is and with the work ethic it has, a businessperson who wants to discriminate against homosexuals is dumb indeed. Let's face it: When Wal-Mart—a "red state" company if there ever was one—has a sexual orientation anti-discrimination policy, we've turned a real corner. Give Earth a few more revolutions around the sun and this problem will take care of itself.

Abortion? I would prefer to avoid the issue like the plague, but if I have to pick a side, I guess I am in the pro-life camp. But I have a "pox-on-both-their-houses" attitude toward the folks on both sides of this issue, who seem to operate on the theory that time stopped in 1973 after Roe came down. The war in Iraq? I am a supporter, but not one with rose-colored glasses. Immigration? Bring it on. I love America and want to share its possibilities with as many people as possible—as opposed to bilingualism, which, I hasten to add, is a bad educational policy. Not to denigrate any particular foreign language, but English is the language of this country and should be taught to non-English speaking people in America so that they will maximize their economic and social opportunities here.

So where does all of this put me on the political spectrum? When pressed on the matter, I label myself "center-right," which seems as good a description as anything else. I would like to come up with some sort of clever political label for myself, but I can't really think of one, although I am partial to UT law professor's (www.instapundit.com) apt description of himself as "Anti-Idiotarian." I'm just me, on a bit of a political odyssey, much as a few of my political heroes—Reagan (switched from Democrat to Republican), Winston Churchill (switched political parties not once but twice) and Benjamin Franklin (went from being pro-British to virulently anti-British radical)—did. Of course, just because I'm on an "odyssey" doesn't necessarily mean I'm shifting significantly. I may well end up pretty much where I started. Who knows?