This is California, the land that invented reinvention. So why shouldn't I get to be what I want? And what I want, it has finally dawned on me ... is to be a Republican.
I want you to know this is not a decision I have taken lightly, or without apprehension. But I know it's the right thing to do.
How can I be so sure?
Because ever since I made this decision I have felt better. I have stopped grinding my teeth at night and fuming over the morning paper. I have stopped railing at the TV screen and flipping from one radio station to another. Not only that, I have stopped hearing that incessant whining sound in my head, which, as it turns out, was the sound of my own voice. What a relief!
I can look in the mirror again too. For the past several years, I haven't liked what I saw there. I saw a loser. I saw the kind of guy who sits in the bleachers, shouting obscenities at the opposing (but winning) team. Who stands on a street corner in sandals and socks, waving a handmade peace sign at passing motorists. A guy who gets up every morning expecting a drubbing, and goes to bed every night having received it. I saw ... a Democrat. A liberal. A man who once voted -- oh, God, should I confess it all? -- for Nader.
No wonder I could no longer live with myself.
But let me tell you, even though it's only been a few weeks, life as a Republican is sweet. It's all a matter of little lifestyle changes, nips and tucks here and there, but it's all adding up to a big drop in my blood pressure.
For one, I no longer have to defend Michael Moore. That can be a full-time job and, besides, I have my own weight problem to worry about. I can side with that sleek Sean Hannity instead of that goofy-looking Alan Colmes. I long now to be as lean as Ann Coulter, as loud as Rush Limbaugh and as rude as Bill O'Reilly. When people crossed me in the past, I would listen to what they had to say and then turn myself inside out trying to find some nonoffensive common ground. ("Yes, yes, the Klan did do a lot for the linen industry.") What a wimp. Now if I disagree with somebody, I just talk over him, or tell him to shut up, or come up with clever rejoinders I can utter the next day, when the other person isn't there, to win the points I fumbled.
It's fabulous.
And I can listen to the radio again! No, not Air America, or whatever that leftie network was called, the one that neither I nor anyone I know was ever able to locate. And no more of that NPR either, with its incessant caterwauling about money and listener support. Hey, get a job, NPR! (I've already got all the tote bags I need.)
