Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Carter vs. Reagan

I’ve been thinking a little bit about the Carter-Reagan debates of 1980, probably because the worst president of the twentieth century has bumbled back into the news recently. I don’t recall how many debates there were (I’m not googling anything for this post); heck, I wasn’t even a teenager at the time. But I do remember sensing it was a tremendous deal in my house. Laying on the floor while my father and mother sat on the couch, glued to the television, it was a Big Event for us.

Now I was only aware in a very hazy sort of way about what was going on in the world. It was kinda scary. This post sums up what I felt as a boy back then. These were troubled times; I knew the buzzword “stagflation” was bad even if I couldn’t exactly tell an adult what I thought it was. Our family subscribed to the New York Daily News so every day headlines screamed murder, corruption, and terrorism at me. My grandparents subscribed to Time (these were the days before it was a blatant and devout left-wing commentary magazine), and each week I’d see the colorful and often disturbing images on the cover page. Long lines for gas. American hostages in Iran. Perhaps that background of foreboding made the debate(s) seem all that more important for us, a single-earner middle-class family in a modest, middle-class neighborhood.




It was the first time I watched a debate, and I remember focusing on it from start to finish without distraction. My initial, overwhelming and overpowering feeling, which I still talk about today every now and then, was the sense of pure confidence I got from Reagan. The power and strength he exuded, as opposed to the weaknesses and word-parsing from the current president. And me, a boy of twelve! This grandfatherly man would protect me and my world, of that I had not the slightest doubt. And obviously, judging by Reagan’s landslide victory, so did many, many others in mainstream America.

But I wonder: Is this the reason why so many independents and moderates were snookered (I believe: adjective chosen deliberately) into voting for Obama? Despite all of McCain’s credentials and experience, he was not an ideal candidate. He did not radiate the power and strength that candidate Reagan did. Obama, on the other hand, talked a forceful game. While my natural instincts were not taken by him (plus the added fact that I would never, ever vote for a Democrat on principal – you know, the whole abortion, gay marriage, taxation platform) he obviously spoke better on the campaign trail and in the debates. Well, as long as he had a teleprompter or a prepared speech, as we’re finding out every now and then. However, I think we Americans love a man who can get up there and speak and sound powerful, even if we kinda know in our heart-of-hearts we’re being sold a story.

Which brings me to another point, one I just brought up with the wife a few nights ago and one I posted before. How sad it is that great men (seemingly) only come around once in a lifetime. I am thinking of two men in this instance: Ronald Reagan and John Paul II. They have charisma. They exude power and confidence. They fight the good fight. They genuinely fight for us, not in the sense of being a community organizer or of one “speaking truth to power” but of one standing square in the thick of a battle between forces greater than the ones we can see and know. They fight on the moral battlefield; they believe in the natural law; they believe, like ninety or ninety-five percent of us, in God.

How I wish for more Great Men in the remainder of my lifetime. At least one more.

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