Patriotism

Wasn't feeling it this year. Don't get me wrong; I can't imagine living anywhere else than America (well, except maybe Canada, but they'd have to do something about all that snow first...). We've got our freedoms, which are good, and I certainly appreciate the men and women who are serving our country, keeping those freedoms intact. I tend to have a problem with us forcing our way on other countries, but if it keeps the terrorism and violence of the world to a dull roar, then there must be some good in it.

I watched a bit of the July 4th shows on TV last night, found Josh Groban's time on Capitol Fourth to be ho-hum, but nice...missed the Boston Pops this year, because I just didn't have the attention span toward the end of the night. Besides, I grew up in New England, where it was on every year on the local channels and then some, and you can only see fireworks set to JP Sousa so many times before you want to strangle someone in 4/4 time...

But it gets you thinking about patriotism, this holiday. And there are plenty of ways to believe in it without showing it. I've also never liked our national anthem, think that is one poem that never should have been set to song, but that doesn't stop me from tearing up on Memorial and Veteran's Day, when it's played right. And my favorite black & white flick is Yankee Doodle Dandy, so maybe I'm just more Broadway than Constitutional Convention...whatever the hell that means.

But I think a large part of it this year is just location. Our porch is so tiny, there's no point sitting out on it. And that's what I wanted to be able to do last night, as my neighbors grilled and thoroughly ignored the fact that fireworks are illegal in Florida. When we get a house, I hope I can have an area for chairs out back (or front) where I can sit with my mason jar of sweet tea and watch the fireflies come up in the summer evenings. I know that's idyllic, but it's also doable. And we're so close to that, to renting a house hopefully, something with washer/dryer connections and a monthly payment that doesn't kill us, but does also allow us to live in a neighborhood where I don't have to wonder if the fireworks sounds on the 4th are just that, or the gunshots of folks taking advantage of a night where those noises blend together.

July means we have until the end of next month to let our complex know that we're moving. That realization occurred sometime this weekend. I'm researching neighborhoods and planning a trip up there, and thinking hard about starting with an agency for work. It makes the future a little shakier, but I just can't take "no" for an answer anymore where this move is concerned. It's something I've talked about for 10 years, on and off, the desire to get the hell out of Florida. I won't let fear stop us this time.

Image from here.