May the Fourth Be with you
Ah, the Fourth of July rapidly approaches. Being of the patriotic persuasion, I am inclined to think tender thoughts about this holiday. It sends shivers up and down my spine. (Is being patriotic included with being romantic? Just curious) I like the fireworks and the national anthem and the powerpoint Kathey just put together.
I like friends and family being together and eating barbecue. I like hearing the crack of the bat as it slams into a softball and hearing the cheers as Rustin (or whoever) sends one out of the very small park we play in, though I tend not to play myself. I like hearing the kids' happy squeals as they are handed sparklers by watchful parents, and watching their hands clap over their ears as yet
another Piccolo Pete is set off.
I like watching the fireworks burst into color over the trees and shivering happily, whether from cold or from emotion is yet to be determined, not that it matters. I like curling up by myself and concentrating on the sparks showering down from the sky, being an aesthetic person and not inclined to talk while such a display is unfolding. I like red, white, and blue, not necessarily in that order.
I like listening to patriotic songs until it drives everyone else to distraction. I like hearing lots of versions of the Star Spangled Banner. I like wearing my army shirt and pin, and I like watching the flag wave gently in the breeze. I like hearing the loud booming of the cannons as they shoot off the fireworks. I like the anticipation of waiting for it to grow dark enough to finally see the fireworks.
I like seeing pictures of the Statue of Liberty and the monuments in DC and eagles and the White House and the Capitol.
I love every bit of it.
Sure, America has her problems, and maybe you don't like it here. But it's still "the land of the free, and the home of the brave," to borrow from a favorite song of mine, and I love her.
God Bless America.