Independence Day

Friday, July 4, is Independence Day. I hate when people call it "The Fourth of July". The 4th of July is a date, not a holiday. By that logic, I should celebrate "The Seventh of March"; seems just as valid. Or why not "The Nineteenth of May"? That one sounds good.

But the one coming up is Independence Day. It's a good holiday. About as American a holiday as one could have. We celebrate the day we declared ourselves a nation, we drink beer, we grill beef, we blow shit up. Yup, as American as they come.

I'm not against Independence Day. I'm against Independence... but at this point, I don't think the Queen would have us back. Independence Day should stand to remind us, once annually, that we are a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears punks. This year, it will be 232 whole years, which in Nation terms makes us about 12.

Would you let your twelve year old declare war?

400 years ago, a bunch of disgruntled religious extremists (Yes, don't you remember studying the Puritans in 9th grade history and English Lit?) left England to sail forth to find a new place to practice their stonings and witch-hunting. They came across this great nation -- and the great Nation that inhabited it -- and by their own arrogance, claimed it as their own... but still as a colony of their mother country (they were nuts, but not without a sense of economic prudence).

165 years passed -- we'll skip over the gloomy part about what happened to the native inhabitants -- and (as legend has it) finally got fed up one day about tea. Now in the past 168 years, they had pretty much given up the whole funny-hats, witch-stoning religious odd-ball-ity, and settled for... well basically the same religion they were practicing back home that they were oh so oppressed by (oh, and some had become Quakers... that's an interesting one... but for another time, perhaps).

So, in 1773, the blood of much tea was spilled. 3 years later, they justified their costumed vigilantism (kinda like Batman, less the cape, add Indian feathers, loose the cool gadgets, and add a distaste for tea and taxation) with a documented, ratified, and official declaration, wherein they called the British a bunch of tyrants, and said "we don't have to stand for this."

Sic semper tyrannis!

Actually that's what John Wilkes Booth said after he shot Lincoln, but the message was the same, and we declared war on Britain.

Fast forward another 232 years, and I sit on a beach, watching fireworks, and listening to bad music. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against John Philip Sousa; it's the rest of the dreck... the patriotic "pop" music... that leaves much to be desired. If there's one in particular that makes me want to kick babies, it's "Proud to be an American" by good old Lee Greenwood. "And I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free." Listen, Lee, you can be free in Finland... where you can also have Universal Healthcare and the greatest standard of living in the world. Plus, you get the added benefit of having a head of state who isn't the laughing stock of the planet.

"...at least I know I'm free." Yeah, at least you have that. Your country may unlawfully torture non-combat detainees in a secure and secretive base on the shore of an enemy nation we've been in embargo with for greater than 50 years while ignoring all UN requests for meer inspection... but at least you know you're free. It's like saying I'm proud to be complete trailer trash, where at least I know no one will rob me.

OK, but enough bashing of trailer trash.

If it's not Lee Greenwood, maiking me want to move to Bulgaria, or the 6 tone-deaf assholes behind me singing along, or the "Town Band" murdering the 120 year old classics of Mr. Sousa, then its the ignorantly inappropriate "Born in the USA". Yup, Bruce Springsteen's classic rock anthem... you know it, you love it, I love it... I will not disparage The Boss. But apparently no one knows what it means. Maybe when Bruce denied Ronald Reagan the right to campaign, we might have remembered why. No? Well, because it's not a song of nationalism or patriotism, that's why.

I got in a little hometown jam
And so they put a rifle in my hands
Sent me off to Vietnam
To go and kill the yellow man

That's patriotic, right? Killing is the name of one's nation is about as nationalist as one can get.

Come back home to the refinery
Hiring man says "Son if it was up to me"
I go down to see the V.A. man
He said "Son don't you understand"

Oh, that must be the patriotism... not being hired after coming back from serving his country?

I had a buddy at Khe Sahn
Fighting off the Viet Cong
They're still there, he's all gone
He had a little girl in Saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms

Patriotic yet?

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
Out by the gas fires of the refinery
I'm ten years down the road
Nowhere to run, ain't got nowhere to go

Homeless vets. Yup. Yeah, not so patriotic, I agree. So... back to Independence Day.

Annoying music -- either by lyric, performance, or blatant inappriopriateness -- coupled with drunken yahoos -- any statutes forbidding drinking in public do seem to be ignored on this day -- form the bachground for the true spectacle of the Independence Day celebration: Fireworks.

Thank you to the 9th century Chinese for giving us the telltale expression of our most American holiday. Granted, these days the greatest fireworks in the US come from an Italian-American family in Long Island named Grucci, who have been making American-made firworks since 1850. A typical Grucci fireworks program costs about $100,000. Bear than in mind the next time you pay your city tax bill.

Or, you can go down to your local fireworks store, or drive to New Hampshire, South Carolina, or whatever your closest legal state to buy fireworks and illegally bring them back to your own, crack open a can of your favorite canned beer, fire up your grill, sit the kids on the lawn, and procede to blow your own hand off.

Happy 4th of July.