Memorial Day 2011 found me meeting my lady in Boston on a humid summer day. She struggled to find parking, so I went into a cafe & grill for a sandwich after a failed attempt at getting a bagel. I enjoyed a barbecue chicken sandwich which for me is the official sandwich of Summer. I love barbecue chicken year round but on that late day in May, I knew summer had arrived.
She arrived just as I finished my sandwich and we began to stroll through the Commons as many others did. Most people seemed in a daze trying to find some icy oasis from the heat. We stumbled upon a sea of American flags put up all around in memory of the fallen. I jokingly said to my girlfriend 'I would love to have the job of picking these up.' Almost as if on cue, a minute later several trumpet players who had dispersed themselves around the crowd started playing Taps. We all stood in silence, hats over hearts for those that had them. As they finished playing, the people apparently in charge of the flags asked everyone to help gather the flags in bundles of twenty. I leapt at the opportunity, but as I gathered more and more flags I had what I now call an 'existential moment of patriotism'. Each flag was in memory of soldiers who had fought and died most likely on foreign soil for this country that got on generally the same without them. And I here I was happily picking up these little pieces of fabric hanging off small wood dowels. It made me acutely of how easily we can be plucked from this 'mortal coil' and the futility of war. These memorial flags were being rounded up and placed in tupperware and at most required an extra tug to get them out of the dirt. And what is the symbolism behind the ones that would rather break and be trashed than get put in a rubber band with nineteen other 'soldiers'? I was glad to be honoring those who died defending this country that I so love, but at the same time it made me almost depressed.
War is often associated with valor and honor, but if so many soldiers only get twelve inch flags in park for one day a year, where is the honor in that? And I'm not saying the flags should remain year round, they would get ruined and we'd all need bigger parks. There are memorials, plaques, and of course the beautiful Arlington National Cemetery, but I feel the masses need something more than those damn yellow ribbons on the back of so many cars. After rounding up over five hundred flags personally, we were all thanked and went on our way. That was it. I felt proud of the sheen of sweat I had gathered from my honoring our patriots, but they put so much more in than that for something far bigger than them. I don't know the message I'm trying to get across here, war is bad, mortality is scary, take your pick, but just remember how many people sacrifice everything for our freedoms. And think of them more than just one day a year. Pray for them to God, Allah, Flying Spaghetti Monster, or to nothing just send out positive vibes or whatever. Being human is more important than religion and politics. Thats one thing I'm thankful for. Happy Thanksgiving!
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