I noticed on Drudge this afternoon a link to a Denver Post Blog concerning the discovery of thousands of small American flags that were trashed by the Democrats following the acceptance speech of Barack Obama at Invesco Field. I did not have the hyperbolic reaction of ‘horror,’ but was saddened that there is a candidacy for the President of our great country that considers the symbol of our nation a prop, like the discarded signs that are waved for the speakers in the frenzy of a political convention or the lapel pin that is here today and gone tomorrow.
I’m not the American that stuck the flag on the mailbox for a few weeks following 9/11; or wears a flag hat, shirt, or pin on only the 4th of July. I’m the nutcase that has a flag pole cemented in the front yard; that raises the flag to full staff at noon on Memorial Day; that checks for the official presidential orders on use of half-staff for the deaths of important national leaders; that has his dead WWII veteran father’s flag neatly folded and displayed in it’s case in the living room and calls home to be sure the flag is lowered if my arrival will be after sundown.
I’ve heard that good character is washing your hands when you are the only person in the restroom, when no one is looking. In the context of a national political campaign, character is defined as when the cameras and lights are down, the mic is off, the press has left for the bar. What is left is the real deal. What is left is what can be expected of our elected leaders when the election is over and the makeup is removed.
When I raise my flag my heart is full. I love my country and though I can’t embrace her enormity physically, I can embrace her symbol and through it those that have fallen to fly it. There is no audience when I raise, lower, or fold my flag. There is no witness if I were to let it touch the ground. But I would know, and that’s enough.
Would the Democrats let my flag touch the ground? I know the answer now, and that’s enough.