Rest in Peace, Joe Brown

"You haven't met Joe Brown?! You need to meet Joe Brown."

I met Joe Brown, at Captain Tommy's insistence, in my last week in Texas, watching the sunset from his fishing pier and drinking. He was at least thirty years older than me, we had nothing in common, and we spent almost the entire time we knew each other drunkenly arguing about politics, but our brief friendship was absolutely one of the highlights of my time in Texas and definitely changed my life. I am incredibly sad to know I won't get to tell him to shut up and let me talk again.

He described himself as an "anarcho-capitalist" and had worked for and was friends with the Koch brothers. There was really no reason for us to like each other at all and in fact I think that is why Capt. Tommy introduced me to him, basically just to watch the sparks fly. But he was a genuinely nice and thoughtful human being, in addition to being funny as hell. After a long night of yelling at each other he gave me a hug and invited me to come to an Argentinian wine tasting with him and his wife ("She will love you." he said).

Even though we did not agree on anything and he really had no reason to listen to an idealistic Millennial slurring her way through Feminism 101, Why Ayn Rand was Wrong, and even Why Tattoos are Good, he did. He thanked me for interrupting him when I got impatient with his rambling tirades and then sat with rapt attention while I told him all the many ways in which he was wrong. We both argued passionately, explained ourselves fully, sometimes flat-out yelled, but then shut up and really listened to what the other had to say. Sometimes we even found things we agreed on. And admitted it. He thought about everything I said, asked me questions, and thought about it some more. It was magical. Nobody does that. No one.

I'm not positive that I changed his mind about anything, and he didn't necessarily change mine, but we absolutely got each other to think about things in a new and different way. And it was fun! And fascinating. He single-handedly gave me hope that there are people who are willing to have real discussions in this world. That people can believe things that I hate and still be reasonable and good people. That we can drop useless politeness but still respect each other and speak from the heart. That it is possible to change minds and to share across generations and political ideology, not just preach endlessly to a choir or scream at each other with our fingers in our ears. That there are people who genuinely want to know what other people think and will shut up and listen to what they have to say.

It is heartbreaking that there is one less of those people in the world now but he gave me hope that others exist. And for that, as well as for the welcome and the wine, I am forever grateful.