Memorial Day weekend is in play at this end of the world -- a time, for some, to remember those who sacrificed on the battlefields of the past ... on behalf of those who did not sacrifice so much. I put the flag out as usual and after all these years still have no clear idea as to why I did it or what it means. Sometimes I wish I could be as assured (and to my mind idiotic) as those who think they are confirming their patriotism by wearing American-flag lapel pins.
I dunno. I just put the flag out ... the flag of the country I live in and am responsible for. It is good to acknowledge where you are, to take stock ... even when it's confusing and not at all as easy as red-white-and-blue.
A time for cookouts and sports and parades.
Yesterday was my younger son's last baseball game of the season, a game his team won, 18-14 ... a hitting festival on a sunny day. Today my older son competes in Western Massachusetts track ... throwing the discus. Another sporting event in which he will do well, but acknowledges he hasn't got the build to beat all comers.
When I see the kids on the field and when I hoot and holler to the dismay of my off-spring, I can't help but think we are incredibly privileged ... clean and safe and cocooned in a privilege that is ... just the way things are at the moment. I don't begrudge the kids or gnaw on the notion of all the starving and underprivileged people of the world, but I do think we are privileged and full.
Shall I attribute such privilege to our flag and to those who have sacrificed what others have not sacrificed? That reasoning strikes me as facile and self-congratulatory without a satisfactory base. Others feel differently and will make speeches to that effect.
Oh well ... I put out the flag. I holler at baseball games. And I will watch my son throw a disc into the sunshine today.
Happy Memorial Day!