So mr delagar & I were having one of our rare, ah, disagreements.
Over Bush and his stupid war.
It was on the way back from Wal-Mart*.
I hate going to Wal-Mart anyway -- Wal-Mart seems designed, these days, to drive its patrons into insanely evil moods, what with the immense parking lots, the over-crowded stores, the lack of decent choices among their stock -- you can have any kind of thing you want, as long as its crap -- and their "associates," who are always depressed and unhelpful, and who can blame them?
Then mr delagar bought this war movie, I refuse to say which one, but it came with one of those stupid Support the Troop magnets. Free! And he wanted to stick it on the car.
Not only no but hell no, I say.
Why not? he says. I support the troops. You support the troops. Why not put the sticker on the car?
Because it will make people think you're a right-wing, the kid told him. It'll make people think you like George Bush!
See? I said. Even the kid understands that one.
This touched off the fight, because then mr delagar had to start arguing about whether the Iraqi war was actually a bad war or not, a position I don't believe he actually holds, by the way, for one minute, arguing that if we were fighting to secure the oil that this was a good thing, or at least a necessary thing, and yap yap yap, and I'm arguing Kant and Rabbi Hillel back at him, and if someone invaded our country to get our resources because they needed to secure them and killed a sizeable percentage of our citizens doing it, would you say it was all right so long it was a necessary thing they were doing, would you think it was a moral act for lots of them to slap pretty stickers on the ass-end of their SUVs celebrating that act? Even if they did get those stickers free with a war movie? Huh? Would you?
In the back seat the kid begins having a nervous breakdown. "Stop arguing!" she shouts. "Stop!"
"We're not arguing, sweetie," mr delagar tries to claim. "We're having a political debate."
"Well, stop it! Don't talk about George Bush anymore! Change the subject!"
"Sweetie, we're not mad," he insisted.
"Talk about -- talk about --" She hunted desperately. "Talk about little fuzzy ducks!"
*Can't avoid going to Wal-Mart in our town, btw. Wish we could. We avoid it whenever we can, shopping alternative small merchants, but the Wall, as we call it, has driven most of the small merchants out of the town, and so we have to go there occasionally.