My Brother Thinks He is Rush Limbaugh

My brother and I argue about politics and world affairs. Actually, we have been engaged in a single, ongoing argument for most of our lives. We argue on the telephone. We argue during family dinners. We argue in restaurants, bars and on the golf course. We often make other people uncomfortable because the argument is loud, intense, and angry.

The argument first started when we were in high school, but its intensity did not peak until the early seventies and the Viet Nam War. He enlisted.* I resisted. The only thing we seemed to have in common after the war was the need to argue about it.

During our older adult lives the basic argument branched out to include a wider range of topics. We argued about economics and social issues. We argued about the pros and cons of public welfare. We argued about the threat of corporate greed. We argued about affirmative action, gay rights, abortion rights, the death penalty, and other important issues that mattered. On each of these issues he always chose the wrong position. Go figure.

About fifteen years ago, my brother started listening to Rush Limbaugh on the radio. After a year or so I began to notice a stylistic shift in the argument. He began to argue with me as if the radio right-wing nut was standing over his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Rush Limbaugh became an imaginary consultant for my brother. Unfortunately, “the Rush factor” made the argument far too predictable. The argument started to feel like a role play. We lost some of the passion that made it interesting.

Over the past few years the Iraq War and George Bush reinvigorated our argument. The intensity and emotion returned, but the argument has taken a new twist. Somehow we have learned to argue and respect each other at the same time. Maybe it is just because we are older. Maybe we finally recognized that we are more than our political opinions. Maybe we remembered that we are brothers who share a deep family history. I don’t really know.

I also do not know if this will last but, for now, our relationship is more valuable than the argument. I wish the real Rush Limbaugh could share the same experience.

Note: I once read this on WCHL radio in Chapel Hill. I would love to read it on a Louisville radio station someday. Maybe I should ask my brother to read it.

*My brother called me last night to remind me that he did not enlist. He was drafted. He suggested I change the relevant comment to read, "I resisted and persisted. He got drafted and was shafted."