I've been thinking that this whole immigration issue is like Easter Sunday at my family's house: A bunch of people start showing up — a lot of them, mind you, I really don't want to see. But the reason why I don't want to see them has nothing to do with race, it has to do with being human.
Human beings, as a rule, resist discomfort, so when someone drops by unannounced — or perhaps with a date you assume is pompous, stupid and covered in cheap cologne — you take an instant dislike.
We're an irritable bunch and the people we take it out on are those unfamiliar types without a proper invite.
I've thrown a crapload of parties, and yes, most of the time I've been drunk. But even I know the key to a good party is accepting people into the throng, not because of what they can do for you, but because they can't do anything for you yet.
See, it's not about immigration, it's about assimilation.
Allowing people into this country, as Jason Riley of the Wall Street Journal points out in his book "Let Them In: The Case for Open Borders," is where we're all naturally cranky. We were ticked off about the Irish, the Germans, the Italians. We like being the pissed-off doorman.
But once these folks assimilate, that irritability goes away. It's just like a party: Once people get a drink and the conversation gets going, the more the merrier.
It's time that we look at Mexicans not as irritants and illegals, but as folks who are literally dying to get into the party — if only to wash the dishes. We should let them.
And if you disagree with me, then you sir are worse than Hitler!