Flag Day
There’s a great holiday we have all missed up until now… Flag Day. In the Northern climes of the United States, Flag Day is in those early, watery days of summer before the heat and mosquitoes have reached their apex. In the Deep South, and northward, approaching the Mason-Dixon line, the Summer swelter is here by Flag Day, burning the final week of Spring away with its humid ferocity.
A former boss of mine had made Flag Day his personal best holiday. I expect that even now, he’s taken Thursday and Friday off, and is planning a huge summer BBQ bash for this weekend. Since his hobby was driving in Demolition Derby races, if he can still drive (or walk) after years of sudden concussions and so forth, that should again be part of his annual Flag Day celebration. I’d imagine the brew will flow after a few good crashes, and then flags will be waved around the barbecue.
What of Flag Day? Why bother? Isn’t it just a piece of cloth on a stick? One of the galvanizing sets of symbols that humanity has adopted has been to create banners and flags to rally around. A colorful, waving herald of A Place You Fit In… an awning over our sense of belonging. Let’s get out the metaphor blender and whip up another. How does “an umbrella against the rain of alienation” strike you?
It should strike you soundly over the head.
At any rate, our nation has once again polarized, driven apart on party lines as the next attempts at sea change are gearing up. If we hearken back to this time in 2002, patriotica was in full swing. You couldn’t turn around without seeing an American flag. From Memorial Day through Independence Day, flags were unfurled proudly from homes, businesses, and vehicles. US flag-based patterns became an integral part of many citizens’ personal wardrobes. Flag sales peaked.
Many huge flags waved from the beds of pickup trucks, tattering in the breeze of our shock and dismay at being attacked in our own backyard. The United States became united, just for a short time. Then, our patriotic fervor turned in on itself in 2003, when we agreed to go the whole hog and expand the War On Terror to The War on Terra… and Mother Earth hasn’t yet complained. But the globe is warming.
Let’s look at uniting this country again. Let’s have a serious discussion about how to bring more of our citizens home, and not in pine boxes. We again must stand up in intelligent dissent; we need to be the change we want to see. And nothing is more patriotic than that.
I hope that those reading this post appreciate what Old Glory stands for. My favorite homage to the Red, White, And Blue has always been from the Man In Black, Johnny Cash. Of course, it’s Ragged Old Flag. I saw Johnny perform this in my callow, punked-out youth. His stark voice, hoarse from years of performances, boomed out over a small theater with one lone spotlight on a flag that had been quietly sitting on the stage for the whole show… and the entire audience was on its feet, of one accord. Maybe that’s when I got my mind around real grassroots patriotism—patriotism from the heart.
Enjoy the day.
Ragged Old Flag
By John R. “Johnny” Cash, © 1974 House of Cash, Inc.
spoken:
I walked through a county courthouse square,
On a park bench an old man was sitting there.
I said, “Your old courthouse is kinda run down.”
He said, “Naw, it’ll do for our little town.”
I said, “Your old flagpole has leaned a little bit,
And that’s a Ragged Old Flag you got hanging on it.”
He said, “Have a seat,” and I sat down.
“Is this the first time you’ve been to our little town?”
I said, “I think it is.” He said, “I don’t like to brag,
But we’re kinda proud of that Ragged Old Flag.
“You see, we got a little hole in that flag there when
Washington took it across the Delaware.
And it got powder-burned the night Francis Scott Key
Sat watching it writing Say Can You See.
And it got a bad rip in New Orleans
With Packingham and Jackson tuggin’ at its seams.
“And it almost fell at the Alamo
Beside the Texas flag, but she waved on, though.
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill.
There was Robert E. Lee, Beauregard, and Bragg,
And the south wind blew hard on that Ragged Old Flag.
“On Flanders Field in World War I
She got a big hole from a Bertha gun.
She turned blood red in World War II.
She hung limp and low by the time it was through.
She was in Korea and Vietnam.
She was sent where she was by her Uncle Sam.
“She waved from our ships upon the briny foam,
And now they’ve about quit waving her back here at home.
In her own good land here she’s been abused –
She’s been burned, dishonored, denied, and refused.
“And the government for which she stands
Is scandalized throughout the land.
And she’s getting threadbare and wearing thin,
But she’s in good shape for the shape she’s in.
‘Cause she’s been through the fire before
And I believe she can take a whole lot more.
“And one September morning she was hit again,
By some mad dogs with some hijacked planes.
Miss Liberty couldn’t believe her eyes
and black smoke billowed throughout the skies.
But we said “Let’s Roll!” and we saw her again,
Raised to the sky by the firemen.
(this verse: John Gifford, 2003)
“So we raise her up every morning, take her
down every night.
We don’t let her touch the ground and we fold
her up right.
On second thought, I do like to brag,
‘Cause I’m mighty proud of the Ragged Old Flag.”