The cen­ter left

The Covington News - - OPINION -

Does any­body know what hap­pened to the cen­ter? I re­mem­ber hear­ing about it in the old days, but it seems to have dis­ap­peared like a wisp of mist in a so­lar wind. All any­body talks about is the left and the right. We’re so po­lar­ized th­ese days; I’m sur­prised our com­passes still work. They should be stuck on due daft. To para­phrase Ron­ald Rea­gan speak­ing about the Demo­cratic Party: I didn’t leave the cen­ter, the cen­ter left me. And you can blame Un­cle Ron for trig­ger­ing the seis­mic shift that shoved the cen­ter to the right.

For in­stance: Q. What did they call the home­less be­fore Rea­gan? A. Pa­tients.

Bush One wal­lowed in Ron­nie’s foot­steps and kicked the cen­ter a bit more righter and even Bill Clin­ton nudged it not less than a lit­tle. Then Bush Two… Fugetaboutit. He at­tached a rocket booster to the edge of the cen­ter and shot it so far west of Texas you can’t see it any­more due to the cur­va­ture of the earth. Now I grew up a mod­er­ate. A rag­ing mod­er­ate per­haps, but a mod­er­ate none­the­less. Th­ese guys keep mov­ing the cen­ter, I stay in the same place, and sud­denly I’m a Marx­ist. Just be­cause I be­lieve a so­ci­ety should be based on how it treats its least for­tu­nate, not its most for­tu­nate. And that makes me a com­mie pinko yel­low rat bas­tard? How the hell did that hap­pen?

Think about it. Nixon had civil rights and the En­vi­ron­men­tal Pro­tec­tion Agency. Now he’d have prob­lems get­ting the Demo­cratic nom­i­na­tion for Lieu­tenant Gov­er­nor in Mas­sachusetts. Gold­wa­ter, who said about gays in the mil­i­tary, “you don’t have to be straight, to shoot straight,” would be writ­ten off as an en­emy of our troops and close per­sonal friend of Nancy Pelosi’s hair­styl­ist, if you know what I mean.

Twenty per­cent of the coun­try is, has been, and al­ways will be far left. Twenty per­cent is far right. The rest of us are in the mid­dle. Be­tween the fringes. You could say we are av­er­age, or­di­nary or even, god for­bid… nor­mal. Me, I’m just a mid­dle-aged, mid­dle-class, Mid­dle Amer­i­can of medium height, medium build who likes his steaks medium rare. And that’s the only thing rare about me.

Like a lot of us, I’m just a guy -- a reg­u­lar guy tired of hav­ing to pick ei­ther Anne Coul­ter or Sh­eryl Crowe as my spokesper­son. Th­ese women have as much to do with me as a Mada­gas­car Hiss­ing Cock­roach has to do with the United Auto Work­ers Pen­sion Fund. Maybe its Star­bucks’ fault for se­man­tic size cor­rup­tion. Sell­ing Amer­ica a medium sized cof­fee and call­ing it “grande.” Ev­ery­body ex­pects to be spe­cial. Ev­ery­thing has to be ex­treme. And the only thing I want ex­treme is the ac­tion of my lax­a­tive.

We’re not just los­ing the mid­dle; we’re los­ing the mid­dle class, which is not a good thing. Cuz when the mid­dle class dis­ap­pears, you start to hear things like “eat the rich,” and trust me, no­body wants that. The rich are way too stringy. All that free time to ex­er­cise. The fat poor is where it’s at. Mmm. The fat poor. Tastes just like chicken. So if you see the cen­ter or know what hap­pened to it, please con­tact me ASAP. Re­ward on re­turn.

DURST

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