I was filling up my beloved beast of a van the other day (13 mpg, downhill, with a strong tail wind!) when an old acquaintance pulled up at the next pump.

“How’s it going?” he asks. “I read your stuff in the newspaper.” “Well that’s nice,” I think to myself, “why, the readership could be rocketing into the dozens!” (Hey, even progressives have egos.)

Then he chuckled, “Do you have any Republican friends left?”

I hadn’t thought about that in a while, and it occurred to me that maybe I should.

I’ve long had friends of the other political persuasion. A couple of nights before, at (yet another) retirement gathering, I spent significant time fencing with a Republican state legislator I’ve known for the better part of 30 years. There wasn’t much we agreed upon, but I count him as a friend. I believe the feeling is reciprocated.

I’ve mentioned one of my best friends in my columns before – my hulking Republican retired farmer. When I am feeling too full of myself, he has the uncanny ability to deflate my balloon with a few well-chosen words, or even just a glance that telegraphs “what kind of loco weed have you been smoking?”

For over 40 years, many of my most invigorating political conversations have been with a local GOP activist who is ex-military and conservative, and damned proud of it. Years ago, the candidate he was supporting died unexpectedly. I was on the telephone immediately to offer condolences, not just to be polite, but because I knew how much that candidate meant to him. I sympathized with his loss – even if, had his candidate survived, I would have worked to see him defeated in the general election.

Friendships such as these have always been important; they provide channels of communication that cross party lines and transcend ideological differences. They are even more important today, because there are forces at work that would consign such relationships to the scrapheap of history.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some kind of political St. Francis of Assisi, all humble and forgiving, with bunny rabbits at my feet and songbirds twittering around my head. I take my politics seriously, and when something sticks in my throat, it doesn’t go down quietly without comment.

At the same time, I try to resist the temptation to assume that everyone on the other side is headed for the ninth circle of Hell.

I try to keep in mind that the only way this republic is going to survive is the same way it was born – with people of significantly differing political views, strongly held, keeping channels of communication open, and utilizing those channels to reach some kind of accommodation with folks, equally committed, on the other side of the political divide.

I said “I try.” Not that I have always succeeded in the past, nor will I in the future.

While there is little about the current administration that I find attractive, or even consistent with American values, I try to keep in mind that almost 63 million of my fellow Americans voted in favor of it and, I assume, believe it is doing a hugely good job. Certainly, their opinion counts for something.

In return, it would be nice if the administration’s partisans recognized that, according to Ballotpedia, over 73 million of their fellow citizens voted for someone else, including third-party candidates and “others.” So toning down the “landslide” rhetoric would not be out of order.

And it should probably be sobering to all those who voted to note that over 92 million registered voters didn’t vote at all – by far the single largest segment of the overall eligible voting public.

So, to my friend at the gas pump, yes, I believe I still have Republican friends and I value them greatly – now more than ever – even though some of my more snarky comments probably drive them bonkers.

We need each other to keep communications open, even if such communication is hotly political in nature.

The greatest danger facing our republic, I believe, is from those who would isolate us one from the other, in separate echo chambers, to strengthen their own political position. Such a strategy only makes those in charge of the echo chamber stronger, and the occupants of the chamber less empowered to play a constructive role in moving this country, this grand experiment, closer to reaching its full potential.

To the degree that such movement is obstructed, the chances of achieving our national potential is delayed.

If not lost forever.