For one three-day weekend every year, Kim and I head up to Blowing Rock for a quiet little getaway in the mountains.
We do this either in August or September, mostly to escape the heat of summer for a bit. The weekend we choose is the one Saturday of the month in which they offer Art in the Park, where craftsmen and artists offer their talents for sale and appreciation. It's literally cool stuff.
This year offered us something different.
The mom-and-pop motel we were staying at featured a large gazebo that offered a gas fire pit and so, even though we were a little worn out from the day of travel and shopping, we decided to join the two other couples and a single who were sitting there.
I like doing stuff like this. You're going to meet people you'll probably never see again. What could possibly go wrong?
It was actually pleasant for a while. When the conversation stalled, Kim suggested we go around the circle and tell each other where we're from and our ages, because, you know, we're nosy.
Amazingly, that went well. We all started feeling a little more comfortable with ourselves and less like strangers.
But then something happened. To this moment, I'm not sure exactly what. I mean, I wasn't expecting a U turn. But the single guy quickly went political, especially with the older couple opposite him. Suddenly, the conversation became about transgenders, and particularly, transgender children. A culture war issue.
There was a back and forth between them, growing more and more heated. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The couple directly opposite us tried to play peacemaker, but the temperature at the fire pit was rising incrementally. Suddenly, the wife of the targeted husband – who said she was 70 years old – blurted out to the single guy, "You're an asshole." She said this several times.
My brain stopped processing. I wanted to leave. But I couldn't because I was watching a car wreck and car wrecks usually have witnesses.
"Oh, really," said the single guy. "I was just trying to learn how you think, but all you give me is deflections. You're unteachable."
Kim and I remained mute, trying to become invisible. I was thinking of what my father told me some 50 odd years ago that you never talk politics or religion with strangers, and now I saw why.
"C'mon guys," pleaded the peacemaker. "We're supposed to be on vacation. Let's be civil. Chill."
The older couple, frustrated, got up and left. Shortly after that, after additional comings and goings within the group, we took our leave.
Back in our room, I had to think about what just happened. The 70 year-old-wife should never have resorted to base name calling, but why did the other guy think he was a teacher in this episode? Teaching what? His view?
But even on a deeper level, I was floored. Within 20 minutes, complete and total strangers were at each other's throats. How did this happen?
I'm trying not to turn this into a metaphor for where we are in this country, but it seems rather obvious what's happening. We've pretty much lost our civility. One of my friends suggested that confrontational reality TV has helped usher us to this point. So has unrestricted social media. I happen to think a poisoned political atmosphere has given us license to be unthinkingly rude to each other.
We've seemingly lost some of the values taught to us by our parents, by our teachers, by our churches. Heck, even our churches have become politicized despite the Founders' vision of separation of church and state.
And I don't know what the answer is. Well, for me, it's to keep my mouth shut in socially inflamed situations, especially when I'm bumping my aura with somebody else's.
No name calling, for sure.
Be kind.
All you need is love.
Absolutely
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