I Finally Agree With the Democrats—And That’s What Scared Me Straight

February 25, 2026

Well now, grab yourself a rocking chair and pour some sweet tea, ’cause what I’m about to tell you might just knock your boots off.

Last night, Debbie and I settled in to watch the State of the Union address. And I’ll be honest with y’all—going in, I had a whole lot of sympathy for my Democrat friends. I truly did.

See, I’ve been there. I remember how it felt watching speeches from presidents I didn’t vote for, sitting there with my jaw tight and my blood pressure rising like a thermometer in a July heatwave. That sinking feeling when every word sounds like an attack on everything you believe in.

So when I saw those Democrats sitting there last night, stone-faced, arms crossed, looking like they’d rather be anywhere else on God’s green earth? I felt for them. I really did.

I turned to Debbie and said, “Honey, I know exactly how that feels. This is miserable.”

And for a good while, I sat there thinking maybe I’d finally seen the light. Maybe I understood the resistance. Maybe I’d join them in their frustration.

Then the President mentioned them Epstein files.

And all them pins on Democrat lapels—pins for survivors, mind you—suddenly looked like costume jewelry.

Because here’s the thing that hit me like a freight train: Obama had eight years to open those files. Biden had four. They kept the lock on the door tight as a drum. Not a single document released. Not one page.

Then this president—whether you love him or can’t stand him—actually did it. He opened the files. He let the sunlight in on darkness that needed exposing for decades. 

And when he spoke about it last night? They couldn’t stand. Not even for the victims.

That’s when my sympathy started curdling like milk left out in the Georgia sun.

When the Math Don’t Add Up

Now, I’m a simple man. I don’t claim to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I know when something don’t add up.

The President talked about prices coming down. Eggs, gas, groceries—all trending in the right direction. Things that matter to folks like me and you who work hard for every dollar. Things that matter to single mamas stretching paychecks and seniors on fixed income.

And they sat.

Now, I understand politics. I understand not wanting to give the other side a win. But when you can’t even acknowledge that your own constituents are paying less at the pump and the grocery store? That ain’t politics. That’s pride.

That’s when I started realizing something uncomfortable: my sympathy was misplaced.

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A Moment That Made Me Plain Sick

Then came the moment that broke my heart clean in two.

The President asked a simple question—asked Congress to stand if they believed we should protect American citizens before illegal alliens.

Y’all, I’m not talking about some complicated policy position. I’m talking about the most basic question in American politics: Should we protect our own people?

They stayed seated.

And right there on my television, I watched a member of Congress wearing a Fk Ice button—a button with initials that I won’t spell out in mixed company ’cause my mama raised me better—but let’s just say it was telling law enforcement officers, the folks who risk their lives keeping our communities safe, exactly what they could do.

A sitting member of Congress. Wearing that. On national television.

I looked at Debbie, and she looked at me, and neither of us had to say a word. Sometimes silence speaks louder than a thunderclap.

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Here’s What I Realized

My sympathy for these folks evaporated like morning dew on hot asphalt.

This ain’t about policy differences. This ain’t about conservative versus liberal. This is about something gone sideways in the souls of people who hate one man more than they love the folks they’re supposed to represent.

They sat when the President honored the USA Hockey Team—young Americans who brought pride to our flag.

They sat when he mentioned Charlie Kirk—a young man out there fighting for free speech and common sense on college campuses.

They sat when he talked about protecting citizens from violent criminals.

They sat when he released files that victims have waited decades to see.

But here’s the thing that really got me thinking—

The Mirror Don’t Lie

As I sat there feeling all high and mighty about how wrong they were, the good Lord tapped me on the shoulder and whispered something uncomfortable.

Dean, how many times have you let your dislike of someone keep you from doing the right thing?

I thought about that for a good long while.

I remembered times I’d let my pride keep me from apologizing when I should’ve. Times I’d let politics COLOR how I treated a neighbor. Times I’d sat on my hands when I should’ve stood up for what was right just because the wrong person was saying it.

We’ve all been there, friends.

And that’s when it hit me: this ain’t just about them. This is about all of us.

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The Media That Feeds the Fire

Now, I ain’t letting y’all off the hook without talking about something that’s been eating at me for a long time.

The media—it doesn’t matter if it’s CNN, FOX, MSNBC, or your local news station—they’ve figured out something terrible about human nature: Anger sells. Division pays the bills.

They don’t want us finding common ground. They don’t want us realizing that most Americans—whether they vote red or blue—want the same basic things:

– Safe neighborhoods for our kids

– Fair wages for honest work

– A government that works for us, not against us

– The freedom to live our faith without apology

But if we figured that out, we might stop watching their shows. We might stop clicking their outrage headlines. We might actually start talking to each other again.

And that’d be bad for business.

So they feed us a steady diet of “us versus them,” and we eat it up like gravy on rice, not realizing it’s poison in our souls.

So What Do We Do Now?

Here’s where I land after a long night of thinking and praying.

I’m not asking my Democrat friends to love Donald Trump. I’m not asking my Republican friends to hate Joe Biden or Barack Obama. I’m asking all of us to remember something more important than politics:

We’re Americans first.

When we can’t stand for victims getting justice because the “wrong president” made it happen? We’ve lost our way.

When we can’t celebrate lower grocery prices for struggling families because it makes the other side look good? We’ve lost our way.

When members of Congress wear buttons disparaging law enforcement while claiming to represent law-abiding citizens? We’ve lost our way.

But here’s the good news—it ain’t too late to find our way back.

An Invitation to the Table

You know, in the South, we solve a lot of problems around a dinner table. There’s something about passing a bowl of gumbo and breaking bread that reminds us we’re all human beings trying to make our way in this world.

I’ve got friends who vote differently than I do. Good people. People who love their families, work hard, pay their taxes, and would give you the shirt off their back. We disagree on plenty, but we still sit at the same table.

And that’s the America I believe in.

That’s the America where we can disagree without being disagreeable. Where we can stand for something without knocking down everyone who sees it different. Where we remember that the person across the aisle isn’t our enemy—they’re our neighbor.

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One More Thing Before I Go

To my friends here in Georgia’s First Congressional District:

You need a representative who understands what it means to stand up—not just literally, though Lord knows that would be a refreshing start—but to stand up for the people back home when it’s inconvenient, when it’s unpopular, when the cameras are rolling and the Twitter mob is screaming and the easy path is to just go along and sit down and be quiet.

Keep your eyes on Kandiss Taylor for 2026.

She’s the real deal, y’all. A woman who knows what it means to put faith and family and the people of Georgia above the noise and the nonsense of Washington politics as usual. A woman who will stand—every single time—for the folks who sent her there.

In a town full of people who couldn’t stand up when asked the simplest question in American politics, that’s not just refreshing.

That’s everything.

The Bottom Line

Last night, I started out sympathizing with the Democrats. I ended up praying for them. But mostly, I ended up praying for all of us.

I prayed that we’d remember who we are. That we’d turn off the hate-mongering media and start talking to our neighbors again. That we’d realize gumbo tastes better when it’s shared, and so does this beautiful, messy experiment we call America.

So pull up a chair and stay awhile. The sweet tea’s cold, and there’s always room at the table for folks willing to listen with their hearts instead of just their heads.

Welcome to the family, y’all.

Dean Burnette

Southern Fried Thoughts

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P.S. – If this made you mad, that’s between you and the good Lord. If it made you think, that’s between you and your conscience. Either way, I’m just a humble fella stirring the pot and telling it like I see it from my perch on this porch swing.

Now pass the gumbo.

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