This grand old Flag: what’s it worth?

The old carpenter shuffled slowly to the park bench.
He placed his wooden tool box reverently on the ground.
He had to put his hand on the bench to support himself,
While he lowered his creaking frame down to sit.

I went and saw The Last Airbender today in 3D and enjoyed it. I’ll do a review on it another day, as there was something that happened at the start that disappointed me. Prior to the curtain going up, the Johnny Cash version of Ragged Old Flag played over the sound system, followed by The Pledge Of Allegiance. While the theater was only about one third full, one would expect at least some to stand for it. I counted two of us standing with our hands over our hearts.

He surveyed the area, hoping to find a friendly figure
With whom he could converse, to pass the time,
But it was late November, and the park was empty.
And so it should be, he thought, so it should be.

Maybe it’s the fact I’m a Vietnam vet, or that I just have a love of this country, but I think respect for that pledge, and what it stands for, should be synonymous with what this country stands for. With the hatred spewing from the pundits who call themselves Americans, and the hatred from those saying they’re not, I think the message of the pledge has gotten lost somehow.

A crow, with shiny black feathers, landed on the bench.
It cocked its head, and looked up at the carpenter
With an expression that brought to mind the words,
Have you been here before?

This country was founded with the blood of those who weren’t afraid to spill it for simply the idea of living free. And spill it they did, by the hundreds of thousands in wars we fought right here on our shores, and on the fields of countries where freedom was in jeopardy. Countries like England, France, Italy and many others. Thousands of American soldiers died on those fields, many to never return to these shores again.

Many, many times, the carpenter said to the crow,
Though his voice was silent as the long dead leaves
That were still scattered about the park’s broad expanse.
I have been coming here since ‘fore this place’s time.

But now it seems the hatred has spread to the point getting together and hashing out differences is seen as a weakness, and making political points is the norm. And it’s not just one party doing it; it’s all parties, be they Democrat, Republican, Tea, Independent, et al.

I am the carpenter. I am the one who built the Cross.
I am the one who watched on the mount as the man
They called Jesus was nailed to what I had built.
I am the one who helped Him down, and laid Him to rest.

That I saw only two people stand during the pledge speaks volumes as to the state of politics in this great nation. Its gotten to the point I wonder if this Republic hasn’t degenerated to the point it’s not working any more, and if there is anything we can do to bring civility back into the fold.

My penance for carving out the wood, and making the cross,
Is to wander the world until such time as I find that
I can forgive myself for what I have done.
I have many more years to wander, I fear.

And I ask myself as well, do we need to shed more blood on these shores to reinforce the beliefs our forefathers placed in The United States Constitution and the Bill of Rights? And I tell myself, I don’t want to be alive to watch something as horrible as that. I don’t want to think for one second it would be necessary.

As the carpenter turned to gaze at the crow,
The bird gave a squawk, and flew off to seek less noisy things.
The carpenter looked again over the park with eyes
That contained no joy, no light…only the pain of ages.

So I ask you, is this country worth saving? Can we get together and make this country what it should be, without the hatred? Or am I spinning my wheels here over something lost, not to be found again. I know I’m guilty of bashing this political system on more than one occasion, but I’ve never hated what we stand for, nor hated people I disagree with enough to wish them harm in any way. I’ll say unabashedly I love this country, but I hate this hatred spreading like a cancer throughout our political system. It’s time we all stop and look at our neighbor, and regardless of what they believe in, understand they, too, are Americans, and that is something we can all be proud of. So I would ask you if you go the the movies, and they play The Pledge of Allegiance before the movie, stand, and show people you do care, and this country is worth it.

The old man slowly reached for his tool box.
He stood up, wincing at the pain it brought,
And shuffled down the park path towards places unknown.
The crow watched, with a coal black eye, from a barren tree.

Flaming Lesbians!*

I’ve searched high and low – my degree of lowness is available for rent for wedding receptions, Bar Mitzvahs , college dorm rooms, welding classes and various and sundry gatherings by people only slightly lower than myself, although I know that’s difficult to believe . . . but I digress, which is a wonderful way to get out of discussing the main topic while I research “Flaming Lesbians” at various porn important web sites – for the history of the term, “Flaming Lesbians, with not much luck. I even tried looking up Flaming Lesbians at well known food web sites, thinking I may find a recipe for them there. It wasn’t and I didn’t, and I was so hoping I could find one with curry and spam. So, I’ll have to make stuff up, which I can do with some authority, as I’ve been doing it all my life quite effectively.

Now I know you lurkers out there, and I know you’re there, probably expect something on the sexual side of life because of the title, “Flaming Lesbians”, but I’m here to tell you that sex is something that should be reserved for real porn sites, and not the bedroom or living room or on top of the dryer while it’s running because that girl I met the other night liked it so much. She was not a Flaming Lesbian, but when I asked her to get my clothes out and fold them afterward, she called me a flaming idiot and left. But that’s okay, as being chauffeured around in a 1964 Pinto is not my idea of a good time. Why? Flaming gas tanks, people. Duh!

So anyway, back to the term, “Flaming Lesbians”, which is not to be confused with the movie, “Flaming Star” staring Elvis, which was not about Flaming Lesbians, but about something to do with Indians and cowboys singing around the old campfire and exchanging scalps hair treatments. But I digress again, which, if you haven’t figured out yet, I’m pretty damn good at.

Now it is my basic understanding not all lesbians are indeed flaming. Some have never flamed in their lives, but those that do are a force to be reckoned with, as flaming can cause serious burns, should one decide to get in a Flaming Lesbians’ way. I do have it on good authority, though, if two Flaming Lesbians were to occupy the same space, the heat given off would be enough to vaporize every gallon of oil now floating in the Gulf of Mexico, with a slim chance it might even cap the well, not that I’m suggesting we try it, other than as a method of last resort.

I know the burning question on everybodies mind is: “What do I do if I meet a Flaming Lesbian?” Well, that depends on where you meet her. If it’s in a grocery store, you might ask her to heat up a frozen TV dinner, so you can eat it right there and not pay for it. Maybe even share it with her. You know, BAM . . . make some friends, as some famous chef says all the time.  Should you meet one in a theater, well, again,  it depends on what kind of theater. If it’s a dance theater, hell, ask her to turn off the flames and offer to foxtrot with her. It’s my understanding Flaming Lesbians are always awesome dancers sometimes. If a singing type theater, join in on the last chorus of “These Boots are Made for Walking”, by some chick who’s related to somebody, with her. If she doesn’t smoke you out of existence after that for singing the worst song in history, you’ve probably made a new friend, and that’s a wonderful thing, don’t you think? If you meet her in a restaurant, ask her if you can have that left over meatball. That always sometimes works as an excellent conversation starter. I’ve used it on many occasions, although it didn’t work at that Mexican restaurant I ate at last week. In fact the place burned down, not that I’m blaming a Flaming Lesbian in any way whatsoever, or that box of sparklers I some dude accidentally dropped a lit match into.

The other burning question rolling through the minds of lurkers everywhere is: “How do I change a Flaming Lesbian.” It really depends on what she’s wearing. If she’s wearing that beautiful black outfit, with the rhinestone glittery thing dangling from one ear, nothing needs to be changed, because she’s perfect.  But if she’s wearing that purple outfit with the cheap plastic thingy dangling, then very carefully escort her to the nearest Target, or maybe a Dollar General, if you have one close by, and convince her to buy that orange and blue cheap metal thingy instead. She’ll look so much better, and metal has a higher melting point than plastic. So it’ll be a win/win thing, and, again, you’ll probably make a new friend.

I am fully cognizant of the fact there are people out there who have an aversion to Flaming Lesbians, but your fear is totally ungrounded, which I would suggest you do, ground yourself that is, because ungrounded people can spark, thus exacerbating the fact ungrounded people may set on fire any flammable materials that may be stored in the area. Safety first, people, safety first.  But I am still here still to tell you that fearing Flaming Lesbians is totally without merit. Okay, I will admit sometimes a fire-retardant suit may be necessary, but for the most part, just wetting a towel and placing it over your head usually stops your hair from catching fire when you shake hands with them. And really, folks, who’s more dangerous, Flaming Lesbians or Chuck Norris? Shaking hands with a Flaming lesbian might get you a wittle burny on your wittle hand. Shaking hands with Chuck might mean your whole hand might get ripped off, as well as your arms and legs. It’s a no brainer, folks.

So, now that you have been thoroughly educated on, “Flaming Lesbian”, you can go out in the world and meet these wonderful people, expand your horizons, make new friends, and enjoy a whole new side of life. Just don’t let them fill your gas tank.

* Dedicated to an awesome friend who makes the best tater salad in the world.