Coming To Terms With Trump (And Politics)

NOT LONG AGO I encountered, on Facebook of course, an old friend of mine from high school. I had not heard from him since high school, fifty two years ago. I saw his name, sent a friend request, he accepted, and soon messaged me first, which flattered me. "Long time", he said. I agreed, and we chatted a bit. I assured him that I had lived what I thought was a productive life, happily teaching at several educational levels. He didn't need to tell me about his career trajectory. I had followed him all the way, keeping track. He was our star high school quarterback. He want on to play college ball on scholarship, then spent some time in the NFL. I related to him that among the most nerve racking moments of my life had come from watching him play professional football on television. I had never rooted so hard for anybody in my life. His NFL career was short lived, as most of hem are. After retiring from playing, he had gone on to a successful coaching football at both the small college and high school level. Like myself, he is now fully retired, with a nice family, complete with grand children. Laughingly we recalled our high school days together. We used to load up his car with beer, and have at it. One time, as seventeen year olds, we came staggering out of a local bar togethr, bragging about how much beer we had consumed. I was proud to have downed seven bottle of Budweiser at the high school level; he laid claim to twenty, and chided me for being a light weight. We got into a fake fist fight, arguing over beer. He is six three two twenty, andI , poor I, a mere five six one forty five at the time, though I've put on a "few" pounds over the years. We choreographed the fight to make it look like I was kicking his ass, laughing the entire time. I swear that I heard one of the old drunks, who had come out of the bar to see what kind of trouble the two teenagers were getting into, say: "Hell, I told you that that short little son of a bitch is a real bad ass!" After our encounter on Facebook, which was only a quick "howdy", I went right back to my primary Facebook raison d'eter, hammering Trump. I post nothing about Trump. I merely share and add comments to others who slam the bastard. I noticed that my quarterback friend went silent. I began to suspect that he is a Trumper, had seen one or more of my slanderous remarks, and, disapproving of me, had decided to shun rather than directly excoriate me. This, of course, was and probaly is all only in my head, but I still don't know. A mutual friend, a fellow anti-Trumper, assured me that his own hateul comments about Trump had not incited any mallce, which gave me a bit of reassurance. And that made me think this: politics is unimportant, friendship is not. Its just that simple. When Jesus told the questioner to "render unto Caesar" he meant, I think,this: Why bother? Why bother to even consider inciting a revolution against the Romans over payment of taxes? He needs the money nmore than you,or he woudn't demand it. Its my favorite part of the Bible,that, and the story about the prostitute being spared from stoning. Friendship is more important than politics. If you don't pay taxes to Caesar, you will pay them to somebody else. If Trump ever leaves, you'll have to deal with somebody else, somebody whose actions and policies of which you may or may not approve. My father told me to never lose a friend over ten dollars. I tell you, and I tell myself: never lose a friend over politics. I intend to keep my quality quarterback friend,Trump or no Trump, for as Casey Stengal said to his sobbing grand daughter after the seventh game of the 1960 World Series: "Its just another ball game, baby."