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Sunday, Nov 8, 2009
One loves Bush, the other gags at the very sight of him -- and yet they sleep together every night! Inside the peculiar world of mixed-politics couples.
Jan 23, 2004 | Mary Lee Gowland, a 54-year-old poetry teacher, moved to Coarsegold, Calif., in 1992, an election year. "I had been raised by Democrats and was a lifelong liberal. It was very important to me to be with a man who had the same political beliefs," said Gowland. "I had never gone out or even socialized with Republicans because I had been raised to believe they were nasty rich people." Enter John Busch, a filtration distributor from Texas, who in 1992 was also new to California.
"We didn't discuss politics at the very beginning," says Gowland. "And I really liked him, was attracted to him physically, but on the second or third date he showed up in a suit and it totally freaked me out. He told me he was a Republican, and the first thing I said was 'Don't tell my parents.' I was 40 years old." Though it was "kind of scary at first," and on one memorable day she "practically jumped out of the car when he said Hillary Clinton was a communist," Gowland decided to proceed with the relationship. She and Busch have been married for 12 years.
How do Gowland and Busch -- and other strange bedfellows -- sleep at night? Politics is one of those things that tends to be catching -- within families and tribes of friends. Many of us don't even socialize with people whose views differ radically from our own, and become positively itchy at the thought of falling for someone who doesn't share our core beliefs: about healthcare, abortion, the war, the president, or, you know, the nature and responsibility of government in an evolving world. Between an extraordinarily divisive war with mounting casualties, and the first presidential election since both the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks and the chad-littered Florida debacle of 2000, this may be the most polarizing political moment in decades. That two people who stand on opposing sides of the many political canyons facing the country could successfully couple may be beyond the ken of many of us. And yet, the country -- red and blue -- is dotted with pairs who cheerfully cancel each other out at the polls, who spend news hours and election years raging, bickering, throwing their hands up in frustration, and perhaps even getting off on the fact that never shall their ideologies meet.
"God, it keeps it interesting," said Betty Kennedy, a 47-year-old Republican social worker in Dade City, Fla., who two years ago married retired St. Petersburg Times columnist and vocal liberal Jan Glidewell. "Couples that sit around nodding at each other all the time probably lead boring lives," added her husband.
Indeed, many politically opposed couples say that love beyond party lines can be electrifying in that proton-electron, yin-yang, raw attraction sort of way. Think Mulder and Scully, Beatrice and Benedick, Ralph and Alice, Hepburn and Tracy, Nick and Nora: sparring partners who generate heat.
A heat so intense it can occasionally obscure the fact that you just might be sleeping with the enemy.
"I didn't realize he was a Republican until after we were married!" Carole Borstein, a 57-year-old Manhattan attorney, said of Ray Weisner, her husband of 15 years. "I had been raised by Democrats; to me my whole world was Democratic," she continued. "And he was such a lovely guy it never occurred to me that he would be a Republican."
The cruel truth hit her hard during their first year of marriage, at tax time. "I was brought up that it was a privilege to be taxed," said Borstein, who was born in Brooklyn. Borstein actually lost words for a few moments when she tried to recall her surprise at discovering that her mate felt very differently. "I was nonplussed, I was shocked, I can't even think of a word that fits what I was. I was overwhelmed, because my husband is such a nice guy," she reiterated. "I don't think I'd ever dated a Republican, much less married one!"
Over the years, said Borstein, her dismay at her accidental marital circumstance eased. "I used to think it was very important that he think exactly like I thought, and we would really go at it. But we don't really anymore." She said they try not to talk about voting or the IRS. "I prohibit the discussion of taxes in my house because it makes me absolutely nuts," she says.
"I don't like taxes," said Weisner succinctly, joining his wife on the telephone.
"No, he just doesn't like the way they're applied," amended Borstein.
"The marriage penalty changes my blood pressure," he said.
Borstein jumped in: "Every year this comes as a shock to him! We eat, we drink, we have a nice house, and you know what? We pay a little extra 'cause we're married!"
When asked whether the years of living with a Democrat have softened his Republicanism at all, Weisner hesitated.
Borstein told her husband, "The answer is yes, Ray."
"I would say no," said a laconic Weisner. "It makes me aware of other points of view. And I'm willing to listen. But I can't think of a position I've shifted on because of Carole's position."
"Carole, can you think of a position you've changed your mind about?"
"I guess I can think of some things you argue that I may think have a tinge of validity," said Borstein.
"Oh, I didn't say yours had any validity," said Weisner.
