236 years ago and thousands of lives and broken bodies ago, a brave band of men and women, pulled the English Lion's tail and would not let go until freedom could grow. If there were Vegas betting odds in 1776, no one would have taken the bet--Liberty is a concept you need to forget. Follow Paine and you will need to drop the e for that is what you will get, from Bunker Hill to Valley Forge to even crossing the Delaware is what you will get. Like today the country was not in one voice against an external threat. If we had had the bickering we have today and the partisanship would this country ever been formed and survived. As we celebrate our independence to our rabid Blues and Reds a plea on this most important day wear a swash of purple.
Hope you enjoy the poem describing what Newport Beach California looks like on the 4th
Summer Patriots
It is far too ironic
that on the day we celebrate independence from our former English liege,
A large part of Newport will be like a
city under martial siege,
With police on every
corner though not in riot gear and barricades on every street.
That cherished right
of auto movement has been curtailed, it has met defeat.
In recent years our
neighbor city further up the coast,
Thousands of
celebrants turning all manner of couches and sofas into toast.
Symbols of farmers,
blacksmiths or tanners behind a hedge, fence or tree,
Armed with flintlock
by force to try to set us free.
The image of fife and
drum and three men with bandaged head and wounded leg,
Replaced today by
those gathered round the coolers, gathered round the keg,
The badge of honor
goes to whomever can most and forever consume,
Or who gathers the
most thongs throughout his rooms.
In 1777 it was a day
to reflect, of fireworks and a thirteen cannon salute,
Marking the first
Independence Day the fragile seed of democracy began slowly to take root.
In most of the
country this is a day of parades, Sousa, reflections, fireworks and family
barbecues.
Sad, in this Golden Land
of beach and sun, it is a day of too much wine, too much brew.
Any excesses you
cannot blame on Washington
who on this day in 1778,
Handed out rations of
double rum to his soldiers who helped forge this ship of state.
A thin blue line and
thin green line are poised on our border,
Against overwhelming
odds to try to prevent drunken chaos and disorder,
For those summer patriots
whose guzzling will not relent,
Who feel such
independence is a God-given consent,
No matter how close
you look at their blue and green threads,
No way will you find
the slightest speck of Redcoat red.
If the summer
patriots despised by Paine choose to party and not reflect,
At least accord the
thin blue and green lines some honor and respect.
In the party daze
remember freedom is not cast in stone nor etched in concrete,
It is more fragile
than a snowflake or butterfly and in the hall of nations may quickly lose its
seat.
Look only to Troy who felt with their
walls alone were beyond any Greek’s reach,
Remember this short
lesson history will teach,
After the
celebrations of rivers of wine ran their sleepy course,
Troy was destroyed by conscious Greeks coming
from their Trojan Horse.
For our rights
soldiers are dying daily on Iraqi sands or in Afghan not Bunker Hills,
Party to the max, is
that how one respects that sacrifice and final bill?
If for only a moment,
image an army unpaid, in rags, many without shoes,
But no matter the
hardship forged in the valley, their faith remained true,
They would not let go
when they grabbed the lion’s tail,
No matter what,
against trained English steel, cannon, and muskets they would not fail.
Each pledged one’s
property and each pledged one’s life.
In countless battles
many our forefathers paid the ultimate sacrifice.
So done, wave the
flag with meaning and fireworks applaud with hearty cheer,
But maybe this year
as you pause and reflect, use a little less wine, a little less beer.
© July 4, 2007
Michael P. Ridley aka the Alaskanpoet
