In response to an article about the Georgia governor's race, I dropped this little bombshell the other day:
No disrespect to Georgia Kossacks, but I've been to foreign countries where I feel more at home. All Deal needs to do is cry for the cameras clutching a King James Bible, and all will be well with his constituents.
That drew no fewer than five pounces from Georgia Kossacks who I evidently disrespected, to which I replied,
Turn Georgia blue and I'll buy a house there, all right? Now where do I contribute?
That one didn't get any discussion. I was disappointed. Maybe I should explain exactly what I was doing in Georgia that gave me the feeling I wasn't at home.
I was thinking about buying a house.
Living in the frozen north, you start to think about what you're going to do when your bones are old and tired and you don't relish the thought of mounting and unmounting snow tires any more, or bundling up in layers to walk out to the mailbox. I had been to Atlanta a couple of times on business, and thought I should check it out as a place to roost in my later years.
A few years ago, Mrs. Fish and I packed up our bicycles and embarked on a short vacation to the Peach State, and the first few days of it were peachy indeed. We stayed in Helen, a resort community north of Atlanta, and spent some time cycling through the hills there and hiking on the Appalachian Trail. So far, so good. Then we made our way to Atlanta proper to spend a couple of days seeing the city.
The B&B we'd booked there was highly recommended and pleasant enough from the outside. When we stepped inside, however, the first thing that caught my eye was the establishment's parlor, which had been transformed into something of a Confederate shrine. The proprietor joked about us being Yankees, but I didn't really get the joke. After some further unpleasantries, we decided against staying there. Now, this experience by itself had not soured us on Georgia at all, but it did serve to remind us that even in the heart of the New South, much of the Old South remains.
The politics of the state serve as further reminders. The Governor, both Senators, and a majority of its House delegation are Republicans. This does not appear to be changing any time soon. I know full well that there are good people in Georgia trying their damnedest to change that, but for now, it's an inhospitable place for a northern Democrat to resettle.
Georgia is hardly unique in this respect. Another place we've considered making our home in our sunset years is Arizona, but we know what's happened there. Indeed, it seems that a majority of places in the Continental U.S. with an agreeable climate are inhabited by voters who would be governed by lunatics like Jan Brewer, or who would send miscreants like Saxby Chambliss to Washington.
How is this to be changed? Should a bunch of northern Democrats swoop in to carpetbag the electorate in such places, or do we just work with the more enlightened residents, to make them more hospitable? In short, to turn the Red States blue.
Or should I just stay where I am, and die in the cold?