rah rah rah

So apparently this is one of those days when we’re supposed to express pride in being American. Yaye… jingoism… meh.

I’m not a flag waving person. I actually think the stars and stripes are kind of a tacky combination. I mean… I don’t much go for 18th century design in any other of my interior or costume. I give tours about it at Beauport, but it’s not really my personal preference. 

I do have pride in this country. And shame. I learned both from living in a foreign country, when I could see how we look to the rest of the world… which is, believe it or not, a greater percentage of persons… and certainly not a lesser quality. I’ve experienced the absolute best camaraderie between nations… and shriveled noses of disdain. Living abroad inevitably makes one appreciate the subtle advantages of living in the US. Things like a water heater that lasts for more than an hour. Or peanut butter. But there are a lot of things we don’t have… so it all balances out.

I get annoyed with this country, especially when I hear the blowhards on Fox Noise distribute their toxic ideas. It really makes my soul ache sometimes… but then I remember that I live in a country where we can disagree about such things and no one… dies. I live in a country where I can wear a t-shirt and cut off yoga pants, with my dyed hair in a haphazard ponytail, drinking my coffee and my filtered water. I’m in my mid-thirties and haven’t been forced into a marriage or consigned to some miserable life because I’m not. I can’t be imprisoned or killed because I gave up virginity to a man that isn’t my husband. I live in a country where there is a god awful oil spill… but at least someone is paying attention to it. I can get on the highway in an hour and decide to go somewhere for dinner… or not. So, yeah, living here is a pretty cool thing to do. I’m not going to deny that.

Do I feel compelled to rally my love today? No. There were fireworks last night. There might be a meal or two in the next two days… but that has nothing to do with American pride. It’s about the food and the company and the fact I don’t have to work this week. Stars and stripes have nothing to do with it.

But here I am typing up my thoughts, in a more elongated form than the Facebook statuses that made me roll my eyes this morning. Because I’m a pretentious turd, I know. Because I just don’t understand why today is only one of three days when we have to think of the fact there are men and women who fought, who are fighting, who died to make this country free enough for the general populace to overspend on iPods and cell phones and clothes and other useless crap at Walmart. So we can feel free to moan and groan about cleaning up our southern beaches as we climb into our gas sucking SUVs. Yeah, let’s thank a soldier for giving up everything so we can take it all for granted.

The wars are important fixed points in time in our country’s continuum. To preserve all that every day minutiae. But… what about the people who preserve our country and all materialistic freedom when there isn’t a war? Why don’t we appreciate them? Well we have to hate them. The government. The people who take our money and spend it. On police departments. On fire stations. On schools. On roads. On parks. On fireworks displays. And of course, they do a lousy job. Because it’s our money and we aren’t doing anything with it… so let’s complain about what we aren’t doing. 

Today isn’t a day about wars. It’s about the fact a bunch of angry colonists got together and wrote a long piece of parchment and slapped some signatures on it. Yeah, some of them went off and fought the war of independence. But just as many of them stayed behind the lines and created… a government. 

It seems all we hear about are the bad seeds, the ones who are corrupted by greed and special interests… and disagree with our special interests. But the fact is, they do work for our country. This country doesn’t just happen by itself. There are lots of people who work day and night to teach our children, to pave our roads, to protect from fire and crime. Yeah, it’s flawed. But it has the freedom to reach higher and get better, just as all those white (British) men envisioned two and a half centuries ago. So… see, maybe I don’t have American pride. But I do have American optimism. And confidence. And, dare I say this highly politicized word… hope.