My Blue City Blues

It ain't easy being conservative in Philly.

by Nancy French

"Want to kick Bush out of office?" I hear this as I walk through Center City almost as frequently as I hear the plaintive "Mooommy!" from my kids in an average day. The clean-cut young Democrats registering voters are as polite as they are ubiquitous, smiling as I courteously decline. When they hear my drawn-out "No, thank you," they look at each other knowingly, as if the crime lab just came back with a fingerprint match. They know, or think they know, a great deal more about me. "You're from a red state, aren't you?"

I'd like to report that I stopped the stroller and explained how my conservatism is not the product of my Southern culture, how my political views have been shaped by observation and scrutiny. I could've said, "I could be liberal — I'm from Al Gore's home state," but I just smiled and responded, "Yep."

That was enough explanation, until I turned the corner to be faced with another gaggle of people wearing matching shirts and armed with the artillery of clipboards.

To live in Philly and not be asked about voter registration, you'd have to be underage or so drunk that you can't remember your phone number. Or Republican.

Amid the onslaught, I decided to get a conservative T-shirt to ward these people off, some cotton Kryptonite that makes me invulnerable to their pearly smiles and their pleading inquiries. I've seen numerous liberal shirts, including one with a picture of Reagan that read, "Vote Republican, where Senility is a Virtue." Well, I can exercise my free speech as well. I have an upper torso and a Visa card.

"You can't order that," my husband said when he saw me on the Internet. The shirt in question read: Keep America Safe for Terrorists: Vote Kerry. "It's too inflammatory."

I explained how I just wanted to repel the persistent yet oddly compelling voter-registration people. I also threw in some philosophical stuff about Philadelphia being the birthplace of freedom.

"You wear those shirts and it'll be like wearing a bull's-eye on your chest. Conservative T-shirts have to be self-deprecating and funny. Otherwise, people think you're mean."

So, I've been strolling around town hiding my conservatism lest someone conclude I'm a homophobe, warmonger or racist.

My silence was broken one evening at Borders. Through some gross miscalculation, I ended up in the aisle with a disorienting display of Bill Clinton's memoirs. A nearby customer began a cordial conversation. I listened as she described Hillary Clinton's participation with the Watergate hearings and (a little less attentively) her work for women's rights. "And, she didn't desert her spouse when times were tough!" she ended smugly. As if every person within earshot would agree, she added, "like Ronald Reagan did." Since the kids were home snugly in bed with visions of tax cuts dancing in their heads, I kindly corrected her: "Actually, Jane Wyman left Reagan."

You would've thought I said something about her mother's loose sexual habits. She stared at me quite dramatically and spat, "Well, you just don't know what you're talking about, do you?" This precipitated an awkward moment of indecision before I scampered off and hid in the chick-lit aisle.

Even grocery shopping is laced with political overtones. I went into Whole Foods recently for the first time, and when I brought home some organic peanut butter, my husband noticed the logo and said, "You're half the way to voting Democrat."

While he was searching the pantry for left-over Skippy, I decided I needed some comfort food. I passed a Christian bookstore with conservative posters in the window. A few people had gathered and were loudly mocking conservatives, saying they can't believe that anyone could actually hold conservative beliefs and not be a drooling idiot. I wanted to talk to them about the reasoning behind Republicans beliefs, to show kindness and logic in one glorious explanation. Instead, I merely said hello as I passed and remained a closeted Republican on a mission for H…agen-Dazs – not Ben & Jerry's, lest my husband snidely comment on that as well.

Oh, and I did decide on a T-shirt. It has a picture of Rush Limbaugh and reads, "Even on Drugs, Rush is Right." It's un-American, after all, to remain completely silent.

Nancy French is a novelist from Center City. If you would like to respond to this Slant or have one of your own (800 words), contact Brian Hickey, City Paper interim editor, 123 Chestnut St., third floor, Phila., Pa. 19106 or e-mail hickey@citypaper.net.