Where I wax patriotic

I really love the Fourth of July. I always have. What’s not to like? There’s music, and food, and entertainment and fireworks. Until I left home, my family would sometimes spend the evening at a party hosted by family friends. Their house was literally across the gravel road from the golf course to watch the fireworks show in that tiny western Iowa town. Even then I loved deviled eggs and the Washington, DC fireworks show on PBS.

I don’t wax patriotic too often (philosophic, maybe, but typically not patriotic) but it seems like the 4th of July is a good time for that. I’m pretty impressed with volunteer fire departments, first responders (like the one that helped Pete when he’d been hit by a car) and those who volunteer for military service. Nothing gets me goin’ on that quite like the Fourth of July.

Both of my grandfathers served in the military in WWII. Both were named James, and both had a sort of unorthodox military experience. My dad’s dad performed in military bands and shows across the Midwest. He would sing at funerals and tap dance in shows and do what he had to do. He once poignantly told my husband, “Pete, you’ll do a lot of things to keep from getting shot at.”

My mom’s dad enlisted in the Navy. He was a part of a program that was to train doctors for the war effort, but the war ended before he ever had to serve in that way. Grandpa Lott was educated by the Navy. He attended a different college each year, to work his way to becoming a doctor. Even though the war ended and he was married, he attended osteopathic college and became a doctor by virtue of his military service. He wouldn’t have run track for Notre Dame if not for the Navy and wouldn’t likely have become a doctor, either. This isn’t what he had in mind when joining the service – he had hoped to become a pilot, but his eyesight was too poor.

Anyway. I often complain about America, about how we’re too large a nation to solve our many problems, how I’m non plussed with foreign policy, how people are poor and even middle class Americans are struggling. But something about the Fourth of July seems to bring out the optimist American in me. My grandfathers and others who’ve served have made a valuable contribution to American society. So that I can enjoy the beach and fine food and voting. Thanks for that, y’all.

I have determined to be happy this Fourth of July. To celebrate the good in my life and leave as many anxious thoughts behind as I possibly can. I’m going to try to remember those who have served or are serving our country with a grateful heart. I’m going to celebrate having quit cigarette smoking a year ago, spending time with family and friends, listening to some Sousa marches on ye olde iPod and enjoying myself. At the moment, I can’t think of a better way to let freedom ring.