I’ve heard of Dear Abby. I’ve never heard of Dear Amy, but apparently, she does the same thing Abby did — just in leftist 2023. And, in lieu of questions about meatloaf (the meal not the singer) or questions like: “Should my husband wear a tie to breakfast?” Amy gets questions that are pretty 2023.

Amy was recently asked a question by a mom with a leftist daughter. The daughter’s wedding had created a family rift. The daughter, it seems, has no tolerance for conservatives. So much so that conservative “Uncle Dave” was told he couldn’t come to the wedding. Nonetheless, Mom still expected her brother to send the customary $1,000 to her jerk daughter. Mom was shocked when Dave went silent and didn’t send a check.

How dare Dave! wrote the mom. Dave should take the slap, say, “Thank you, ma’am, may have another?” and send a big check.

All you need to do is look at the political landscape to realize that the above family dynamic isn’t new or unusual. The world of social media has made it worse. And, it seems, that that truculence flows in one direction. Leftists will not engage with anyone on the right. At least not civilly. Their idea of civility is to mob and scream and riot.  Debate or discussion is a foreign concept.

You likely have your own story. I have mine.

Two of my nieces are faithful, card-carrying leftists. They are also sisters. One seems to stand just left of Lenin. She’s a hard-left Bernie Barbie. The other is more restrained but nonetheless faithful to all things left. The latter borrowed money from me to buy a car. When she needed the money, I was the only one she approached. I gave it to her. During the few family events with everyone present, I was respectful and never discussed “politics.”

Back when I was still, occasionally using Facebook, Bernie Barbie posted daily on the platform about politics and her political views. Even-tempered stuff like: “I hate all Republicans.” Bernie Barbie posted a lot of Sanders nonsense and Robert Reich garbage; she posted the occasional “quote” that no one ever said.

One day, she posted a Mark Twain “quote” that wasn’t. I emailed her. “Twain never said that, Barbie.”

She went ballistic, blocked me on Facebook, and ran to my mother and her sister to complain about me. Her sister came to her defense. My mother knew about the car loan and asked the less-looney sister if Barbie had paid back the loan. She hadn’t—and it was five years later. More gnashing of teeth.

Guess who was the bad guy? I was. How dare Jim. He wants the loan repaid? Mean Uncle Jimmy. Bad conservative.

Soon, both of them were engaged and set to be married. My wife and I weren’t invited. My mom wanted to know if I was invited to their weddings, and I told her that I wasn’t. “Are you going to send wedding gifts? That would be nice, Jim.”

No, was my answer. “Why would I do that? They both cut me out of their lives.”

The niece with the loan eventually paid me back. I got a check in the mail with a note—more a two-line spreadsheet. She had paid back the principal, and deducted money for a day of dog-sitting she did years previous. No interest. No $10 Applebees gift card. No fake Twain quote. Uhhhh, you’re welcome?

I am certain they both still have outstanding college loan debt, and I am also convinced that they are complaining about the meanie conservatives unwilling to pay off their worthless English degrees. But I wouldn’t know. They don’t talk to me—Mean Uncle Jimmy.