Party of One

As a McCain devotee, it ain't easy romancing an Obama loyalist.

It was the yard sign that did it. Up until then, my husband and I had an uneasy truce when it came to politics. But Dwight -- a former Democratic strategist with an easygoing disposition -- nearly needed a defibrillator when I declared I'd picked up a McCain sign in my travels and planned to stick it on our front lawn. What followed this announcement was a back-and-forth that included such statements from him as: "A Supreme Court packed with Scalia soul mates? No thank you!" And from me: "Obama thinks 'hope' is a strategy!"

From each corner we debated, Lincoln-Douglas style, adding a few pointed fingers in the face, some clamor, and lots of sarcasm (me) and eye-rolling (him). This went on well into the night, taking the place of our original evening plan of catching up on e-mails and watching Entourage.

Admittedly, I'm the one who changed the rules by going conservative. When we met in college, I was a self-described liberal of the ACLU card-carrying persuasion. Horrifyingly, our favorite class together was entitled Radicalism, where we cemented our liberal positions. Then Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged rocked my world. It was like a window had been opened, and suddenly I began to question much of what I had earlier thought and been taught. A legal career spent, in part, prosecuting drug dealers, child abusers, and white-collar criminals influenced my evolution as well. In a few short years, my political ideology made a 180. And once I realized the error of my ways, there was simply no turning back.

Though he has never been a hard-core lefty, Dwight's liberal roots run deep. After college, he went on to work in campaigns for Democrat after Democrat, ultimately becoming the campaign manager for a gubernatorial nominee (and terrific person, I must admit) here in the Commonwealth. I, on the other hand, went on to write political fund-raising letters for Republicans around the country. Last winter, while Dwight extolled the virtues of Hillary and Barack -- claiming that either would beat any Republican in November -- I took great pleasure in sending along a few checks to GOP candidates.

Dwight takes the McCain bumper sticker on my van in stride, even riding shotgun with me without complaining. The only time I see him agitated about the sticker is on the occasions when he takes my van out himself; those pesky weekend jaunts to the town dump with grass clippings require something bigger than his sedan. Being the designated dump runner, Dwight is forced to own the sticker. I chuckle; he talks of investing in dark sunglasses and a fake mustache.

People sometimes ask us how we tolerate such opposing views in the home. Most days our political discourse is courteous -- sometimes downright jovial. But it doesn't take much for the tide to turn. The wheels recently came off when our 6-year-old son declared he was "going to vote for John McCain." My husband, worried I'd indoctrinated Mitchell and his susceptible younger brother, began grilling our boy on his reasoning. Much to my dismay, some rhetoric spilled out of Mitchell's mouth that was not so charitable to the Democrats.

Afterward, Dwight and I agreed to discuss jointly both sides with the kids, in as simple and bipartisan a way as possible. I gritted my teeth as I took one for the team: "Boys," I said, in a honey-sweet voice, "just because Mommy wants to vote for John McCain doesn't make Barack Obama a bad choice." My kids finished their waffles, at which point young Will quietly said: "I'm still voting for John McCain. Can I watch Curious George now?" (Woo hoo! That's my boy!)

I've been passionate about my opinions my entire life and am convinced that Dwight will see the light if I just persevere. So until Tuesday, and probably well after, I will be doing my best to bring him on board. Neighbors, take note: If you see a Republican sign on our front lawn, you'll know I won.

Lena Robinson is an attorney and writer living in Marblehead. Send comments to coupling@globe.com.