Underneath grey clouds. In the middle of an ugly national presidential campaign. In the middle of one of the reddest states in the union. In the middle of a county seat town pretty much like 91 others of its kind in that red state.

          For a few hours, politics was fun again.

          The occasion was Kokomo’s Haynes-Apperson Festival parade. My son-in-law’s sister, Kelley Land, is running for a spot on the Howard County Council. Kelley’s a bright young lady who has a lot to offer. As a Democrat running in a Republican county, she has a hill to climb. In early July, however, optimism is the order of the day, November will take care of itself.

          The missus and I were recruited, along with as many others as volunteered, or Kelley’s friends could bribe, bamboozle, or otherwise hoodwink into accompanying her in walking the parade route. This meant we were involved in the pre-parade shuffle as all of the various candidate contingents were maneuvered into proper order. It was not unlike a sheepdog trial, with the parade volunteers in their golf carts in constant motion on the periphery jockeying their respective flocks into their pre-ordained pens.

          The summer political calendar, especially in a presidential year, is a T-shirt salesman’s dream.  Despite the overcast sky, the pre-parade mingling was a riot of color, from dark blues and reds, to whites, to very yellow yellows, and a wide variety of hues in between.

          Of necessity, there was much jostling as folks made their way to where (they hoped) they were supposed to be. The jostling crossed party lines as Republicans sought out their kind, and Democrats did the same.

          What hit me was the fact that the party affiliation came a far second to personal acquaintance. As folks rubbed shoulders with folks they knew, they would exchange a friendly “hello” and shuffle along on their way, even if they were supporting opposing candidates. Noticeably absent was the vitriol that has come to poison our political discourse. This wasn’t Republican Bill or Democrat Ken. This was Bill and Ken who remained on friendly terms despite political differences strongly held. 

          Age hath its privileges, and so I was able to cadge a ride in the all-terrain, faux military type vehicle that served as the mothership (and candy motherlode) of the Land delegation. This gave me the chance to observe the parade watchers as much as they observed me and wondered, “Who the blazes is he?”

          Let’s face it, by the time you get to the politicians, you know the next thing coming down the parade route is the street sweeper.      

          Nevertheless, the crowd hung in there. And the little kids! Standing, or sitting on the curb, eyes as big as saucers, many with plastic bags, as the cornucopia of suckers, candy, chewing gum, cheap trinkets, flying discs, colors, and sights and sounds passed by. To jaded adults, the light in the children’s eyes was something to smile at, and of which to be more than a bit jealous.

          It’s called innocence, and we could all do with more than we have.

          This is not a nostalgia piece. American politics is, and always has been, a contact sport. It is not for the overly sensitive, or for the faint of heart. But even in contact sports, be it football, ice hockey, or whatever, there are rules. Some extreme conduct is beyond acceptability, even when committed by one’s own teammates.

          Most importantly, no matter how rough the play, it is still possible to respect the other guy, even as you try to overcome them.

          This is what I believe is being driven out of our political system, the ability to respect those on the other side who are trying with all of their might to defeat that who or which you are trying, with all of your might, to see elected or become public policy.

          Without such respect, we dehumanize, and demonize, the other side. We forget that not only are they human beings as are we, but they are every bit as “American” as we believe ourselves to be – even as we try to beat the stuffing out of them, politically speaking.

          Soon enough I will resume attempts to bash the other side. Undoubtedly, if someone thinks it’s worth their time and effort, they will bash me in return.

          But, in the now, let me bask in the afterglow. For a few hours, politics was fun again.