There are three hundred million people here in the United States of America. Birthdays mean something different to each one of them. I guess it's the same for America too. I use my birthday as an opportunity to reflect on the past year, and more importantly look ahead to the next one.
On America's birthday I paused to take in fireworks--twice for good measure--and beyond that not much else I did was patriotic. In defense of myself, I'm probably not alone. I did pause to think about the soldiers I've never met that protect me as I wake and sleep, from threats seen and unseen, real, imagined and monetary. They do this because they have been ordered to do so. I respect this. I don't necessarily agree with the motivation but it is what it is.
America and I are like lifelong girlfriends. We each have our shit with us, but at the end of the day we know that our relationship is solid. We are good for each other. When we are far apart on issues--I protest. She understands that she is still my roadie, but sometimes you have to call your friends out on their mess. The Arizona immigration thing. The Fremont immigration thing.
I am free to move about the country without border checks and papers, I can vote and I can have the number of children that I choose to have. Many can't say the same. That being said, fifty years ago I would not have been able to vote or walk a public street in conversation with a Caucasian man. I would have sat in the back of the bus. Sometimes my homegirl has too high a tolerance for wrong mindedness--but that's who she is. Sometimes she flat out looks the other way. The assassination of Salvatore Allende in Chile. The handing of smallpox laden blankets to Native Americans.
America--it's your birthday. Do the damn thing. Make sure you think about where you're going in the year ahead. Three hundred million people are watching. Put your best foot forward and do the damn thing. Happy Birthday mama. Get it done
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