Independence Day 2019

1776 . . . 2019

Dear you,

Sizzling July 4 here in Seagrove Beach.  Loaded with tourists, claiming everything as their own, even if this is not their home.  Perplexing, this instinct to travel in packs and lie to rental agencies about occupancy numbers.  Beneath me, a maximum four unit, at least ten random Alabama guests are stomping around.  They lied to the agency.  They just lie and think this is, well, fine because truth doesn’t matter as long as you fake-smile and say “howdy”.  Perplexing, that instinct too.  But this is a holiday, so I aim to pep up and enjoy.


However, this is hard to do.  The current President has staged a military style parade in D.C. and plans to speak in front of the Lincoln Memorial tonight, making this day his rally.  I am looking forward to all the satire to follow, especially graphic work that will no doubt depict the statue of Lincoln standing up and running away . . . or bopping Donald on the head and dislodging his comb-over.


Locally, on my drive to feed the remaining felines at Inlet Beach (a tiny cluster of brush to the West is what remains for their feeing haven), I noticed a group of four obese gals on 30A.  They wore identical tank tops declaring BORN IN THE USA.  I don’t think they were paying homage to Bruce.  I am pretty sure this was all about their feelings of superiority and claim to this nation because they popped out of someone’s vagina within our borders.  Perplexing, this instinct too.


I wonder what Benjamin Franklin or other brilliant founders would think about those shirts?  They probably would be struck dumb by the bad fashion and obesity.  Or maybe not.


2019 minus 1776 = 243

Two hundred and forty-three years of an experiment in governance and place.


The nation has gotten better . . . in big picture ways.  Yes, African Americans are no longer slaves, identities not limited by gender or strange religious codes are being acknowledged (slowly), and women are no longer property (sort of).  However, all those steps forward are matched by backlash and backward leanings.  (See the loss of reproductive choice in so many states; worse still, murderous racism and hate crimes continue.)  Perplexing, this devolution too.


Yet I know that the BORN IN THE USA tank-top gals and the Alabama slammers beneath my feet are down with this devolution.  And there you have it.  My dilemma:  How do I celebrate this nation that includes them, the ones I perceive as a threat to our progress?


I suppose I must simply LET IT BE.  And count the days until the slammers check out and SUV themselves back to the state of my birth.  The “ordeal” of “them” will end.  Perhaps this is just a bit of karma-lite since, really, I am the descendant of invaders too.  Just like them, I am a part of the project, for better or for worse. 


Here’s to the next 243!  Let’s hope it is for the better/best.

Love,

Joyce