News-Record.com

Really, we were both just kidding. He likes to find fault with his daughters' boyfriends, in a good-humored way. Neither of us thinks voting preferences should trump romance. But the idea may not be so far-fetched to some.
Judy Muller offered an amusing Valentine's Day commentary on National Public Radio's "Morning Edition" on Monday in which she wondered whether love truly can conquer partisan differences.
After all, plenty of anger was expressed during the 2004 election campaigns, and it barely seems to have subsided since then. The tone of public debate, the rhetoric on talk radio, the insulting language in letters to the editor, in blogs and other forums gets downright nasty. The concept of agreeable disagreements seems to have been lost. Respect for contrary opinion has become a relic of a bygone time. "You're wrong, and you're an idiot" almost passes for polite discourse these days.
So, when we're practically splitting apart as a country over political issues, can a couple stay together despite opposing views? Can people dislike each others' candidates and still love each other?
I'm here to testify that they can, and I have a 27-year marriage to prove it.
To be fair to Margaret, I was much more liberal when we met. Well, I was 20 and a student at Carolina, and it was the mid-1970s. Everybody in Chapel Hill was liberal then, if for no other reason than to close ranks against Jesse Helms, who wanted to shut down the university and send all the students and professors to Vietnam — even after the war was over.
Margaret, meanwhile, comes from a family of yellow dog Democrats. Yes, it's her brother who worries about ending up with a right-winger son-in-law.
So, it was a bit disgraceful when, in 1982, my political conversion began. I went to work for Gene Johnston, a Republican congressman from Greensboro, and we moved to Washington. The job didn't last long because Johnston lost the election that November. Margaret was very upset on election night, mainly because she was eight months pregnant and convinced we were going to starve. Out of curiosity, I asked her whether she thought her daddy would have voted for Johnston if he lived in the 6th District. "No," she admitted. Sentiment doesn't hold a candle to party loyalty in her family.
We survived that time of turmoil but, perhaps in retribution, our son who was born a few weeks later has developed strong Republican leanings, which he's not allowed to reveal to his grandfather. His brother, however, is fiercely Democratic. So, not only do my wife and I often cancel out each other's vote, but all four of us deadlock at the polls. This provides a great incentive to vote because none of us wants to concede the upper hand in the family balloting.
Naturally, we enjoy some lively dinner-table discussions when the subject turns to politics. Lively, but not overly heated. The trick is to never let it get personal. That means it's also important to know when to stop (whenever my liberal son is winning the argument, which he does with annoying frequency) and talk about something else — although favorite basketball teams doesn't work, either.
In her NPR essay, Judy Muller mused that political differences could be a deal breaker for some couples. That's probably true. Some people identify themselves so strongly with certain issues or candidates that they regard disagreement as a personal attack. But I'd rather put politics into perspective: I am not my candidate, you are not your candidate, there's a whole lot more to us than that, and a disagreement is only a disagreement. Let's get over it and move on.
If James Carville and Mary Matalin can do it, why not the rest of us?
Even my brother-in-law knows the score: The odds are long that all three daughters will wed Democrats. He'll have to accept the idea that they can be happy in a politically mixed marriage.
But if he insists, there's always Massachusetts and an endless supply of Kennedys.

Doug Clark is a News & Record editorial writer. He can be contacted at dgclark@news-record.com and 373-7039.