I am grappling with my current issue of the day: Do I put a lawn sign in my front yard proclaiming my political preferences for all the world to see?
I am inclined to avoid doing so. You see, we live in an era of meanness that borders on insanity.
The last lawn sign that I pounded into the dirt on my front yard had the name of the late Frank Church, the senator from Idaho who in 1976 ran for the Democratic nomination for president in the Oregon primary. That was the last year before I became a full-time journalist, which to my way of thinking meant that I couldn’t declare my political leaning in that fashion as long as I was reporting on political matters.
That was 46 years ago. I no longer am a full-time journalist, although I do write on a freelance basis for a public radio station website and for a weekly newspaper in Collin County, Texas. I don’t feel encumbered, necessarily, by those part-time jobs.
However, I am a bit fearful of putting a lawn sign out there for, say, Beto O’Rourke, the Democrat running for Texas governor, in the middle of what I will presume to be a neighborhood full of Republicans.
We know the next-door neighbors on both sides of us and we know a smattering of others across the street and farther away on our side of the street. I wouldn’t expect trouble from them.
It’s the total strangers who travel down our street during all hours of the day and night who give me the heebie-jeebies.
I also should declare that since I joined the roster of ink-stained wretches who write for newspapers I haven’t contributed a dime to any political cause, either. I do vote. I am adamant that I make my voice heard where it counts the most.
This lawn-sign thing is going to require a major leap of faith. I am unsure whether I want to take it just yet.