Well, it’s almost over. Election Day voting is Tuesday in the most contentious national election cycle I can recall, and I ain’t no kid, friends. My first vote was in 1960 when Kennedy and Nixon faced off.
One thing I’ve noticed this campaign cycle is the proliferation of U.S. flags all over the place. Not just on Independence Day and Memorial Day, but every day. Not just at schools or government buildings, but on homes and cars. And an occasional pickup truck will roar by with Old Glory waving on both sides of its box.
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Patriots? Super patriots? Or politics?
I’m patriotic enough, like, I’m sure, your average American is patriotic. I love our country for the good things about it, and recognize the bad things about it both in the present and the past, and hope they can be addressed. I willingly served in the military. Nobody’s perfect.
Also, I don’t associate the flag exclusively with any particular presidential candidate in this election, but I sense that some do, big time.
I put a small flag out on Memorial and Independence days. It measures about 12 by 15 inches and has a narrow arrow-like staff I stick in a flower pot facing our street. It’s like the flags that line the rows of veterans’ graves in cemeteries on Memorial Day — graves that include my father’s.
My generation was taught to venerate the American flag hanging in our classrooms, and we were preached to by elders on how to handle flags. We pledged allegiance to it regularly with our hands on our hearts. I remember being told that if you were handling an American flag and somehow it touched the ground, you were supposed to burn it, out of respect.
Whew. I was always careful not to let that happen because I wasn’t supposed to play with matches.
Something is disquieting to me about the proliferation of flags these days — fairly large ones prominently displayed on numerous houses the way my father always displayed a good-sized flag on my growing-up home but only on appropriate days, including Flag Day each June.
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A few years ago, I read that when you start seeing an unusual proliferation of flags all over the place, it could be a sign of impending war. Who knows? We can hope not. Of course, there’s plenty of war going on right now, but generally not directly involving U.S. troops.
I sometimes wonder what might happen to a politician — presidents, presidential candidates, congresspeople from both major parties — if he (this mainly applies to suit-wearing men) neglected to put one of those tiny American flag pins on his lapel. They never appear in public wearing a suit without a tiny flag on the lapel, and they almost always are clad in suits. (Some female politicos also don them when they wear blazers.)
I guess they think it proves they’re patriotic Americans and that they love our country in case there was any doubt … “so vote for me.” Also, the higher-level politicos never appear on TV without a row of tall American flags draped behind them. “O say can you see?” Yup, sure can.
I have one of those little lapel pin flags, given to me under unique circumstances. I was a pallbearer in Texas for a relative who had been a career U.S. Army officer, lived a good life, and died an elderly veteran.
As we awaited the start of the funeral service, a friendly woman I didn’t know came over and pinned little U.S. flag pins on the pallbearers’ lapels. Fine with me; it was an appropriate occasion for wearing one as we honored a man who had devoted a good part of his life to serving America in uniform.
So thanks, ma’am, whoever you are. Inquiring later, I was told that the lapel flag pin lady was the daughter of Ross Perot, the Texas business tycoon/Reform Party politician who ran for president in 1992 and again in 1996 and made relatively good showings. She was a nearby neighbor to the daughter of the veteran we were honoring.
I still have that little lapel flag. It’s in a small china cabinet in our home where we display fancy crystal accumulated over the years — and almost never use. I never use that little lapel flag either.
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No disrespect for the flag. I’m just not running for political office. And I don’t wear suits much anymore.
Don’t forget to vote your conscience Tuesday. I’ll be voting my heart — along with whatever’s left of my brain. You shouldn’t have any problem finding your polling place. There’ll be a flag out front. Let’s hope none of them touch the ground.
The Trust Project
