The election is over, and like the cocktail parties of decades ago, when alcohol and cigarettes were consumed freely and too often, some of us are still recovering, lamenting that there's unlikely anything to glide us through the next four years – at least without a prescription.
Before you know it, the American electorate, fickle as it is, will likely dispatch many of today's leaders from either side of the aisle for the next flavor of the day.
What's disturbing during political campaigns of late is that some people think their views furnish them with an element of superiority. In contrast, others are certain theirs keep them grounded, in touch with the common folk, the regular Joes and Josephines.
But that's nothing compared to what's even more disconcerting.
It's the separation. The echo chambers. The refusal to engage with those whose views are different. And when we do, often anonymously, it's not a civilized exchange as it is an effort to demean someone in a digital boxing ring.
We can beat a retreat with coloring books and Crayons – maybe even to another country, as some mentioned after Nov. 5th – banishing ourselves so we're "safe" from views we find hideous and threatening, or we can pull out a relic that might just save us.
I recall the 1970s and 1980s, when the cocktail party was de rigueur for socializing long before there was anything called the internet, a smartphone or an echo chamber, which holds us hostage to our views.
Perspectives other than our own – whether political, economic, social or theological – can be angering, no doubt, which is all the more reason for some lubrication.
There isn’t a problem we can’t solve while throwing back one, many or all of the 10 solutions to common ground: Whiskey, brandy, vodka, rum, gin, tequila, wine, beer or ale. Throw in the 10th solution – cigarettes – and this is a winner.
As the Canadian Club trickles across the rocks, the martini is being shaken, or we’re helping someone – whose views we’re convinced are completely contrary to our own – light their cigarette, we'll discover what political scientists already know: We're a version of purple.
Few of us, in fact, are hardened Democrats and Republicans, which means, despite whatever fears we may have, this cocktail party should go off without a fight. Maybe a boisterous debate or two but without fisticuffs.
As the great Tom Lehrer once crooned, "shake the hand of someone you can't stand/You can tolerate him if you try."
And if you're doing so while consuming your favorite booze, it'll be easier and, hopefully, a friendlier exchange.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em!
