A belated Happy Canada Day for my friends in the Great White North, and a Happy Fourth to my friends and family stateside. On the Fourth, I was mowing the lawn when Shauna called me up to the house. To my great surprise and amusement, I was presented with Shauna, her parents, and a friend, slowly walking towards me, carrying the star-spangled banner on a makeshift flagpole, as they sang the American national anthem. My father-in-law was even limping. All that was missing was the bloody bandage and a piccolo. They even got most of the words right (thanks in part to the fact that it is sung at most NHL hockey games). I’m not a very good singer, but I instinctively put my hand on my heart and joined in as well. I don’t know why the Founding Fathers picked that particular anthem to be our National theme, because it has a three octave range, and it is hard to sing. “America the Beautiful” or “God Bless America” are much easier to sing, and in my opinion, better songs. Then again, I’ve never written an anthem. Well, I suppose “Swamp Queen” is sort of a love anthem.
I always used to take the Fourth of July for granted, and never really thought much about the significance of the holiday. As I watched what Mr. Obama promises is the beginning of the end of the American presence in Iraq, and the coverage of the sham elections in Iran, and as I take note of the mounting casualties in Afghanistan, I am reminded that freedom can be a bloody business. People die so that others may be liberated, and over the years, I have become increasingly thankful for the sacrifices of all those who fought for my right to express my ridiculous opinions. More and more, I value and appreciate the freedom I have been so fortunate to know, but what concerns me is our propensity to foist it upon other cultures that may not be ready for the unsettling change freedom necessitates. How would North Koreans fare if they were suddenly “liberated”? How have we done in the Middle East so far? Is it a matter of national security that we liberate other countries – is that why we fight other people’s battles? Is it for oil, real estate … other natural resources? Maybe, just maybe, not everyone is ready or willing to fight or sacrifice their stability (albeit enforced) for our ideals … or for Big Macs, celebrity suicides, and reality television. Just exercising my right to offer a ridiculous opionion.
Next week, I will travel back to Buffalo to see my mom and to attend a family reunion on her side of the family. Sadly, she will likely not attend, although I hope some of the attendees can visit her. This week, Lehman relatives will arrive in Buffalo from Dallas, Oregon and Florida. As the Lehman/Oppenheimer side of my family rapidly erodes, I take every opportunity to connect with those that are still with us. Mom’s brother “Peanuts” Lehman passed away a while ago, but his son will be at this gig, and I haven’t seen him in perhaps forty years. He was once active in the horse logging business in Oregon, and I believe bred draft horses for a while. I love his emails, because they are colorfully written vignettes of life on a farm, described with a unique, stream of consciousness style. We share a love of music and good song writing. Another cousin, with whom I have lost touch and not seen since a funeral brought us together almost twenty years ago, will come up from Florida. I am told he has wrestled with demon alcohol most of his adult life. Back when we were teens, we were just rebels without a clue, and alcohol and drug use was a badge of honor. Now, these many years later, he is soberly struggling with the payback years. Everyone has one of those in their family. I wish him luck. Somewhat less so than with the trepidation I felt going to my boarding school reunion, I am nonetheless a little nervous about what I will see, and how I will be seen by these distant relatives. It should be interesting.
As I sign off this week , I can see the American flag waving in the wind outside the living room window. Corny as it is to say, I am thankful that I live in a free country, and I’m thankful to have a family with whom to share that freedom. Next year, bandages and a piccolo.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2009 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
I always used to take the Fourth of July for granted, and never really thought much about the significance of the holiday. As I watched what Mr. Obama promises is the beginning of the end of the American presence in Iraq, and the coverage of the sham elections in Iran, and as I take note of the mounting casualties in Afghanistan, I am reminded that freedom can be a bloody business. People die so that others may be liberated, and over the years, I have become increasingly thankful for the sacrifices of all those who fought for my right to express my ridiculous opinions. More and more, I value and appreciate the freedom I have been so fortunate to know, but what concerns me is our propensity to foist it upon other cultures that may not be ready for the unsettling change freedom necessitates. How would North Koreans fare if they were suddenly “liberated”? How have we done in the Middle East so far? Is it a matter of national security that we liberate other countries – is that why we fight other people’s battles? Is it for oil, real estate … other natural resources? Maybe, just maybe, not everyone is ready or willing to fight or sacrifice their stability (albeit enforced) for our ideals … or for Big Macs, celebrity suicides, and reality television. Just exercising my right to offer a ridiculous opionion.
Next week, I will travel back to Buffalo to see my mom and to attend a family reunion on her side of the family. Sadly, she will likely not attend, although I hope some of the attendees can visit her. This week, Lehman relatives will arrive in Buffalo from Dallas, Oregon and Florida. As the Lehman/Oppenheimer side of my family rapidly erodes, I take every opportunity to connect with those that are still with us. Mom’s brother “Peanuts” Lehman passed away a while ago, but his son will be at this gig, and I haven’t seen him in perhaps forty years. He was once active in the horse logging business in Oregon, and I believe bred draft horses for a while. I love his emails, because they are colorfully written vignettes of life on a farm, described with a unique, stream of consciousness style. We share a love of music and good song writing. Another cousin, with whom I have lost touch and not seen since a funeral brought us together almost twenty years ago, will come up from Florida. I am told he has wrestled with demon alcohol most of his adult life. Back when we were teens, we were just rebels without a clue, and alcohol and drug use was a badge of honor. Now, these many years later, he is soberly struggling with the payback years. Everyone has one of those in their family. I wish him luck. Somewhat less so than with the trepidation I felt going to my boarding school reunion, I am nonetheless a little nervous about what I will see, and how I will be seen by these distant relatives. It should be interesting.
As I sign off this week , I can see the American flag waving in the wind outside the living room window. Corny as it is to say, I am thankful that I live in a free country, and I’m thankful to have a family with whom to share that freedom. Next year, bandages and a piccolo.
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c 2009 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
1 comment:
Jaimie, I guess this is as good a place as any for a random post from / from a student of songwriting and humor. Check it out!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YGc4zOqozo
Here’s the story:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sons_of_Maxwell
Steve in Boston
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