Letter to a friend
August 24, 2004 ~ 8:15 p.m.
Dear Smithy:
Whoa, rein those horses in, fella. Methinks that, as always, you read far too much into what I write. When I read your latest thoughts on the matter, I thought, jeez, not you too.
I haven�t drawn any comparisons between McGovern and Kerry. I likened Kerry to Hubert Humphrey; there�s your mistake. And it was you who brought up the concern over Medea Benjamin, not me. I just simply got the idea to write about it from you. Surely you don�t fault me for that.
If what I did calls into question the very things you believe in, then I can only offer my apologies. You know better than anyone else, Smithy, that you can�t turn a ruby into a pearl when you haven�t got the ruby to begin with. I can only offer to polish the tarnished steel; it�s all I can do.
This is all a bit silly considering this goes back a bit, at least a few weeks, but it just so happens to be the last thing we had talked about to date. I began to believe that you were perhaps serious about that walk to the moon you seemed so adamant about�surely you remember that conversation over AIM nearly a year ago when we were both stoned out of our skulls? (If the answer is no, I can�t honestly be surprised)�because you�d been so silent. But then�lo! You suddenly bawled me out over something I had personally written to you about the �typical� Kerry voter. It was humor, and it was meant to be interpreted as such, much in the manner of a book of �Bushisms.� Don�t you remember how I laughed at Doonesbury �s depiction of W. as an empty Roman gladiator�s helmet? I expected a few laughs in return. And it was not me who wrote about the �typical� Kerry voter. That was David Limbaugh. I had decided to share the column with you. Forgive me if that wasn�t made clear during my last ill-fated correspondence to you.
It is certain to me that you are an untypical Kerry supporter in that you actually prefer to think about the issues at hand as opposed to lying point-blank blame at everyone and everything that dares to move outside the media/intelligentsia-approved box. I have long maintained this image of you, and you know it was only boldened when Kerry got the nomination. Man, I�ll never forget how relieved I was when Dean sunk right back into that swamp from which he briefly but stridently emerged�but I wasn�t quite ready to deal with the realities of a Kerry candidacy. Not then; perhaps not even now.
But believe me when I say that I knew straightaway that you would be not only among the gutsiest, but the most stylish of Kerry supporters. You would argue the case for him not through rose-colored glasses, but through thoughtful determination, driven by what you see as �the inequities still lying beneath the surface of our social fabric.� Whatever. I knew whatever you�d do, you�d do it well.
I guess what I�m trying to say, without dipping too deep into ass-kissing territory, is this: Lighten up, Smithy. Crack open a Michelob, watch the news, harrumph indignantly at the War in Iraq (or, much more likely, the networks� director�s-cut-style gorefest that�s tailor-made for those sadly lacking an interventionist and/or patriotic heartbeat), and then perhaps think about getting in touch with me.
You know what I say is true. And I say it because I care.
All the best,
� M.E.M.
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Copyright � 2001-2007 by M.E. Manning. All material is written by me, unless explicitly stated otherwise by use of footnotes or bylines. Do not copy or redistribute without my permission.
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