I had a friend was a big baseball player
back in high school
He could throw that speedball by you
Make you look like a fool boy
Saw him the other night at this roadside bar
I was walking in, he was walking out
We went back inside sat down had a few drinks
but all he kept talking about was Glory Days—Bruce Springsteen, Glory Days
My father-in-law said it.
The man did a few tours in Vietnam as a Marine. He’s as right-wing as they get. Trump all the way. Honorable. Honest. Very good man. You’d be lucky to know one as good.
“I’d never trust a Republican,” he said.
He votes Republican. But he doesn’t trust them.
“The Democrats stick together. You could glue Republicans together and they’d still break apart.”
He was talking about the Greitens case, and he was 100% right. Never trust a Republican.
For the record, I am not a Republican. I vote Republican over 95% of the time. (Libertarian the rest of the time.) I support many Republican candidates, like Donald Trump and Eric Greitens and, of course, Dottie Bailey. But I stopped identifying as a Republican when Bob Dole bought the GOP nomination for President in 1996.
Many Republican politicians follow dull scripts that try to relive the past. Their anthem is Bruce Springsteen’s “Glory Days.” They often lack imagination and integrity. They tell others how to live but apply no standards to themselves. They don’t take cold showers, and they don’t do deadlifts.
In other words, many Republican politicians are almost indistinguishable from Democrats.
Almost.
Unlike Republicans, Democrats fight tooth and nail for their own. Democrats are tribal and social, while Republicans look out for themselves. Republicans confuse rugged individualism with every-man-for- himselfism.
The Missouri Republican legislators who voted in favor of a special session to consider impeaching their governor Eric Greitens sort of proved my father-in-law’s point. They acted on impulse to protect themselves. They didn’t even consider the good of the party or the good of the state. They apparently considered only themselves and their precious invitations to Jefferson City’s weird and depraved nightlife. Glory Days.
In a couple of weeks, those Republican will slither back to their districts to face their constituents. Constituents who voted overwhelmingly for Governor Eric Greitens. Constituents who don’t get invited to Scott Faughn’s weird party pad in JC.
Those Republicans will wish they had some spine. And some friends. They’ll be talking about their Glory Days.
When those Republican legislators return to places like Dent County, they’ll probably hear things that will shock them. Shock them like a live wire. Quick and painful. They’ll long for their Glory Days.
And they earned it.
Well there’s a girl that lives up the block
back in school she could turn all the boy’s heads
Sometimes on a Friday I’ll stop by
and have a few drinks after she put her kids to bed
Her and her husband Bobby well they split up
I guess it’s two years gone by now
We just sit around talking about the old times,
she says when she feels like crying
she starts laughing thinking about
Glory Days
—Bruce Springsteen, Glory Days