boom! A cannon was fired. Both the man next to me and I jumped.
My husband Brent and I are American expats who have lived outside of our home country for seven years. I was recently standing on the deck of a cruise ship about to depart from its most recent port of call, Portland, England. On the dock below us, men in traditional costumes were firing ceremonial guns, sending our boat roaring away.
We were both taking pictures of the cannon, but the guy next to us held his camera and we got a blurry image. “I was so scared that I smeared the photo.”
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I looked down at the image on my phone. “Me too!”
We both laughed.
The man was in his 60s, fair-skinned, tall, and slender. He was wearing jeans, a navy blue fleece, and black horn-rimmed glasses.
He looked a little weird but it was good thing. I thought he and I might have a lot in common.
I took off my jacket and, shivering, turned towards the cabin where Brent was waiting.
But the man stopped me. “Did you see the sails this morning?”
“Well, was it fun?” I said.
“We passed right in front of this cute little lighthouse. It would make for a great photo. I was hoping to pick one up along the way.”
Shall I take a photo too? I thought, torn. I was freezing, but Brent was waiting for me.
Okay, I wasn’t. that It broke. Never miss a chance to take a good photo.
As we each waited for the lighthouse with our cameras in hand, a man said, “Are you enjoying your cruise?”
I laughed. “Well, the weather might get better. All that rain. And it was a shame we couldn’t get into Edinburgh because of the fog.”
“As you say.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bob.”
“Michael,” I said, waving. “What about you? What do you think about Cruise?”
“We brought our grandchildren, ages 11 and 13, and we wanted to spend time with them before we lost them to their teens.”
“So how did it go?”
“It went amazingly well!”
I smiled. Bob seemed like a decent person.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Seattle,” I said. “you?”
“Pittsburgh, but I recently moved to Arizona.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Pennsylvania and Arizona are both election swing states. Things must be crazy.”
“So Crazy. “
I generally try to avoid discussing politics with strangers, especially older white men. I’m always worried that they’ll say something that will upset me.
But before I could change the subject, Bob shook his head. “I can’t believe I voted for that guy. Twice.”
I tried to keep the look of surprise off my face. bob voted for trump twice?After getting over the fear of the first trimester, Bob thought, ? yes! I want to experience more of this madness and chaos!
Brent and I are liberals, but we have several friends and acquaintances who are Republicans and on the right. But they were all educated and just as disgusted with Donald Trump as the rest of us. No one voted for him–not that I know of anyway.
Brent and I have often wondered about these “people who voted for Trump.” How could almost half the country support this racist, misogynist man? who It was These people?
Just the night before, I had overheard a conversation at the table next to me. “All these immigrants are coming in, and the government is giving them everything for free!” thundered a red-faced older white man. “That Harris woman wants more. Trump will keep America forever.” american”
The man looked and spoke exactly like a Trump supporter.
But Bob didn’t look like a Trump supporter at all.
“Did you watch the debate?” I asked. The day after Harris defeated Trump, the internet was flooded with memes of her ranting about pets being eaten by immigrants.
“I saw the clip,” he said. “What a clown.”
loose cannonI thought as I looked back at the dock behind me.
“His pleas were never heeded,” I said.
“I really hate the current situation in Washington, D.C.,” Bob explained. “I thought he might be able to change things, but now things are worse than ever. And his misogynistic ways…”
Did you just realize it? I thought. 28 women accused him of sexual assault!
But another part of me thought: This guy lives in a critical swing state. Maybe I can convince him to vote for Kamala.
“We finally did it on January 6th,” Bob said. “So you’re going to attack the Capitol?”
“Right?” I said. “What the MAGA people wanted was go down Mike Pence. And for hours, President Trump did nothing to stop them. He now calls those arrested “hostages” and wants to pardon them all. ”
Bob nodded. “And that police officer who died.”
“Do you think it’s okay to vote for Harris?” I asked. “Whatever her faults, she would never do something like that.”
“Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.”
I nodded, but truth be told, I couldn’t believe Bob was ambivalent. Couldn’t he see the damage President Trump caused with his vile lies about the “stolen” 2020 election? The former president appeared more agitated and more racist than ever. Even many members of the previous government said he was unfit to lead. Was America really going to collapse into quasi-fascism as the entire world briefly experienced high inflation in the post-COVID-19 years?
I was I’m incredibly tired Donald Trump’s! His crudeness and cruelty, his barely veiled resort to violence. And when a deranged lunatic tries to assassinate him, he doesn’t tone down his remarks one bit, but instead ironically tries to use fear as a way to silence his critics?
I couldn’t understand how Kamala Harris could come through all this with so much dignity and shine a light on Trump’s darkness. She was like a lighthouse that had finally appeared in the distance, at the edge of the harbour.
“We need more people like Liz Cheney,” I said. “She and I differ on certain points. many of the problem. But we agree on the most important thing: the importance of the Constitution and democracy. I really respect her. ”
Bob brightened up. “So am I.”
I smiled. Did I convince him to vote for Harris?
Then he seemed a little deflated. “I have family in Pennsylvania, and they’re still total Trumpsters.”
I was also disappointed in this. After all the lies and bullshit, did Bob’s family in Pennsylvania never doubt Trump?
That pissed me off too. This was no ordinary politics. It’s like we can agree on different policies and things we can’t agree on. Make America Great Again? Trump and his supporters seemed determined to destroy nearly everything that made America great.
I thought back to 2016 and the online fight I had with some of my high school classmates who became full-on MAGA types. Things got incredibly ugly and fighting them quickly turned me into the person I hated.
After Trump won, I pretty much ignored politics just to stay sane. When Biden won, I thought all the madness was finally over.
But now we’re here again. The country is almost split in half and both sides literally hate each other. And nearly a decade after that horror show, the threat of violence has never been more serious.
So where does that leave us? How did the country survive such division?
“There it is,” said Bob, referring to the lighthouse. “I told you it was great, right?”
However, we hardly saw any lighthouses.
Instead, I looked at Bob.
Yes, he voted for Trump twice, but he wasn’t going to vote for Kamala just yet. That was hard for me to accept and even harder to understand.
On the other hand, it doesn’t seem like he plans to vote for Trump again.
More than that, Bob was clearly a good person. I thought that if I fell into the water right then and there, he would grab the life ring and jump into the water right after me.
What about the guy in the dining room the night before? Would he have jumped into the sea to save me? Would I have done the same for him if I had known who he was?
At some point, the hatred had to end. Wasn’t that so? And at some point, we all had to learn to coexist and move on with our lives.
Bob lifted the camera. The lighthouse was getting closer and closer. “Get ready! The lighthouse is here!”
When I finally looked at it, it was just as beautiful as Bob had said. It stood there and led us to safety. All we had to do was follow that light.
Michael Jensen is a writer, editor, and one half of the traveling gay digital nomad couple Brent and Michael Are Going Places. Subscribe to our free travel newsletter here.
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