Mugwump

May 10, 2010
     I am a mugwump. No, for those Narnian fans out there, it is not the same thing as a Marshwiggle. You incredibly gifted vocabularians know what I’m talking about, but I just found out today.
     Mugwumping (you won’t find that in a dictionary) comes naturally for me. Forever on the fence, I balance unsteadily at the point of indecision. Should I be on the left or on the right? Should I be pro-this or anti-that?
     Problem is that I want to be friends with people on both sides of the fence, though I probably relate the best to those fellow fence balancers who periodically fall one way or the other, brush themselves off, and climb right back on to the razor edge of difference.
     Is it always important to know exactly what I think about political issues or world events or controversies that sharply divide people? It’s so hard to decide. As a mugwump, I seem to be genetically predisposed (unless, of course, you believe that nurture outweighs nature) to listen to all sides. Each side—and for mugwumpers like myself there are rarely only two—has its strengths and appeals. Each has its weaknesses. But as I listen, there usually isn’t room for personal evaluation. I get absorbed with what the other is saying and with the body language that is saying something different than what the mouth espouses.
     Yes, I do have some opinions (I think). But I cannot debate them because I might change my mind. There is always another interesting argument to hear, another perspective to ponder, another life experience to consider. So I just keep mugwumping along. Like Robert Frost, I’m not too crazy about fences that divide. Someone has to sit on them.