Friday, October 7, 2016

Every day is Flag Day

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.

This is not a political post. Let’s finish right there. But please allow me one comment: When it comes to admiring the flag, in our yard, in our family, there will not be any grass stains on the clothes in our laundry basket.