Abstract
“You're so naive!” My dad was red as a beet and, every few minutes, slamming his hand down on the table, making the silverware jump and the water glasses shake. What his opponent—Phil, a close friend's father—had to say in response, I don't remember. But I do recall that they were debating politics. Shouting would be a more accurate term. My dad, the conservative, was quite sure that Phil, the liberal, had never spent a day “in the real world.” Presumably, Phil made an emphatic case that my father would hold different views had he just a shred of empathy for the less fortunate.
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