Who doesn’t love birthday parties? Even women of a certain age celebrate their longevity with or without an accurate number of candles on the cake. And who doesn’t love a parade? Bands marching, flags waving, toddlers on dads’ shoulders to get a better view.
The observance of the nation’s birthday appeals to our love of parties and parades and flag waving. It rekindles our patriotism, even in times when the word patriot evokes mixed emotions. It’s a chance for all of us to re-pledge our allegiance to the country of our birth, or of our choice. Strike up the band, wave the flags, hoist the kids up on tall shoulders to get a better view. Let them see what a great country we have here. The land of the free and the home of the brave.
Those who no longer feel so free, no longer feel so brave, and those who question the wisdom of our leaders: Zip it! If just for one day, put on a brave face and celebrate our nation’s birthday.
The wealthy among us barbecue steaks on redwood decks while grandkids turn cartwheels on vast expanses of over-irrigated green sod. The others flock to neighborhood parks to munch on hot dogs, potato chips and beer, inching ever closer to obesity. On this one day, they feel equally lucky to be living in this great country. Tomorrow, they may worry about healthcare, their fat but malnourished children, the health of the park in which they feast, the water they have to buy in bottles, even the air they breath, sometimes with great difficulty. Tomorrow, they may worry about their sons and daughters, trying to graduate from poor schools, trying to get a job that will pay them enough to buy healthcare, maybe needing to join the military to finish their education, maybe even being drafted. Well, the rich and powerful can certainly find a way around that.
Thousands of city dwellers thronged public celebrations of patriotism. In Washington, D.C., at “A Capitol Fourth,” the National Orchestra and U.S. Army Band tootled their way through “The Washington Post March” and other Sousa favorites, and accompanied an eclectic program of American music: Gospel singer Yolanda Adams’ rendition of “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands” and “Of Thee I Sing.” Teen heartthrob Clay Aiken crooned “God Bless the U.S.A.” Country duo Vince Gill and Amy Grant led “God Bless America.” It seems the Supremes have blessed the “G” word for all public displays of patriotism. The program opened, however, with veteran BeeGee Robin Gibb sticking to old secular favorites: “Jive Talkin’,” “How Deep is Your Love?” and “Staying Alive.” No comment about that last one.
In a program probably not blessed by the President, the orchestra celebrated movie music. “Hooray for Hollywood” wouldn’t seem to be among his favorites. And the theme from “Lawrence of Arabia?” Oops! Through it all the crowds swayed in rhythm, sang along (seldom in the prevailing key) and swished those little flags at the TV cameras.
We had no barbecue, no picnic, no trip on congested freeways to public pyrotechnic displays. Of course, the freeways are too dangerous, and someone has to stand fire watch in case some patriots defy the firecracker ban. I watched the best fireworks in the nation exploding and raining red-white-and-blue sparks over all the festival concerts, from D.C. to Macy’s New York shindig to the Boston Pops, which ended its program with a Louis Armstrong recording of “What A Wonderful World.”
I’d drink to that any day.
After watching for a while, I turned off the sound, I mean, one can only handle so many Sousa marches and Yankee Doodle Dandies and wee fluttering flags that probably were made in China. Don’t get me wrong. I love my country as much as any American. And I don’t have to wave a flag to prove it. I love it most when I’m out in the country, in one of our endangered national parks and wilderness areas. That’s where all the purple mountain majesty really lives. At least, so far. And I love this country enough to risk looking unpatriotic, or worse. Enough to question its current course. Enough to applaud opposing views and the freedom to express them. Enough to deplore liars in high places. And enough to wait until tomorrow to bring these things up.
Happy Birthday, America.