With biting wit and amusing personal anecdotes, Harry Stein’s “I Can’t Believe I’m Sitting Next to a Republican” chronicles the everyday travails and triumphs of the plucky conservatives marooned in the liberal bastions that loathe them, from Manhattan to Hollywood, to all the noxious places in between. Surrounded by the insufferably smug and self righteous—from the angry old lady with the anti-war sign affixed to her walker to the random jerk at a dinner party quoting George Soros—these intrepid souls live in a hostile world; knowing that anytime a neighbor chances to learn their views on affirmative action, big government, feminism, the environment, abortion, multi-culturalism, sex education, the reliability of the New York Times, the scariness of evangelicals, or (fill in the blank), his/her face will register stunned surprise and deep confusion. Or worse.
Stein gives special attention to those conservatives working in professions dominated by the liberal elite—journalism, publishing, entertainment, and academia—celebrating their guts and sharing in their disdain for the dogmatism of the self-appointed creative and intellectual class. The result is a conservative’s guide to love, work, friendship, dinner party mischief, and staying happy and un-smeared in liberal America.