This is not a political post. Let’s start right there. This
is a post about a new addition to our front yard, a flag pole, with an American
flag atop it, proudly displayed and flapping in the early autumn breeze at 25
feet above our flower garden. Alert blog followers (and those who have known me
for a while) know that I am a big fan of Flag Day, June 14. This is not due solely
to some patriotic fervor but rather to fond memories of Flag Day in my youth,
which usually coincided with Field Day at my elementary school. And plus, it’s
June: The days are long, the weather’s great, baseball season’s in full swing,
and an American flag sure looks nice in that late spring sun. It should be
noted: My father, an immigrant, was a proud Korean War era veteran of the U.S.
Army, and although he never openly pushed a flag-loving mentality on our
family, his service and his actions led us to a certain level of respect for
what the flag stood for to him and to others who served. Again. This isn’t a
political post. I support the First Amendment and the right for people in this
country to express themselves as they see fit.
This is about how we got a flag pole in our yard. Our oldest
son Joey, now a high school senior, participated in an American Legion program
called Boys State earlier this year. He was selected to participate and to
represent his school. He came back a changed young man. Joey wants for nothing.
Asking him what he would like for birthday or Christmas gifts is akin to
rigorous cross-examination. Eh. Well. Not
much really. Maybe a Five Guys gift card or something. This makes him a bit unusual
for a teenager, I think. Anyway. He came back from Boys State with a very clear
mandate. If you want to get me a birthday
gift, he said, I’d like a flag pole for our yard. Whoa! OK then! Heidi has
Amazon Prime. Purchasing things online is a dangerously simple one-click
endeavor. The flag pole was ordered. It sat in two big boxes, ominously waiting
to be put together, for weeks.
I’m not the most handy guy; in fact, I’m not good at that
stuff at all – you know, putting things together, fixing things, etc. But one
Sunday a few weeks ago, an impossibly beautiful day, we decided it was time to
put up this flag pole. Instructions were read. A few trips to Home Depot were
needed – that, I can do! Cement was mixed. Tools were located. Joey put a
patriotic music mix on his phone, went shirtless and dug the big hole needed to
set the flag pole. Our neighbor Yancey, a contractor and true handy man, was
consulted on the cement process and in other areas, and we were able to muddle
through the project. Around 4 in the afternoon, we hoisted the flag up the
pole. It’s a thing of beauty. Joey’s happy and so are we. We live at the end of
a dead-end road, so the flag pole won’t get a lot of visibility. But that’s OK.
It’s our flag pole.
1 comment:
ditto!
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