So, how’s everybody handling our fair city’s new-found national
fame, albeit of the
”
15 minutes of
”
variety? Well, to be honest, 15 minutes may be pushing it a bit,
but golly, we sure got seven or eight, didn’t we?
So, how’s everybody handling our fair city’s new-found national fame, albeit of the “15 minutes of” variety? Well, to be honest, 15 minutes may be pushing it a bit, but golly, we sure got seven or eight, didn’t we?
And not as most would have imagined, assuming their imaginations had too much time on their hands, for our marvelous mushrooms known from here to nearly there, nor for our mathematics institute/ championship golf course where world-class mathematicians gather to compute the value of par out to thousands of places past the decimal point (par, like pi, is or should be considered an “irrational number” and if you’ve ever played the game you know why). Nor have we found ourselves momentarily basking in the spotlight of America’s short attention span because of our beautiful countryside, our clement climate, or our most excellent vineyards which are rapidly becoming a matter of concern to the snobs in Napa.
No, we became the news reporters’ Catch of the Day because four high school students chose Cinco de Mayo to make a deep and profound socio-political statement about patriotism, national pride and all the things that make America special by coming to school nobly enrobed in fetching ensembles of Beachwear by Betsy Ross.
Which of course got them in Dutch with school administration which feared the display of our most sacred national T-shirts, bandanas and bathing suits might be considered provocative or even to use their words, “incendiary” – can’t imagine why.
Which of course was like fresh blood to a vampire to the garment-patriots of the Tea Party persuasion who instantly leapt into the at-the-time micro-fray and turned it into a publicity bonanza for themselves by invading our sleepy downtown like Reagan invaded Grenada, hooting and hollering for the cameras and waving their hyperventilating signs proclaiming that somehow something really bad was going on in otherwise-adorable little Morgan Hill which could only be exorcised from the public soul by having tricolor-clad yahoos dance around on street corners calling upon the Constitution to return to Earth and smite the diabolical Live Oak administrators in their evil dens. As street theatre it was boffo; can’t wait for the Cirque de Soleil production.
Which made me smile the smile of a Boomer lost in a reverie of centuries past, which is to say the ’60s, when flag-fashion first hit the streets as daring designers began to adorn clothing with representations of Old Glory. The response was immediate and loud; I remember it well, especially as it came from the direct predecessors of the folks so recently decorating Monterey Road like human Fourth of July bunting. It was rather different, though:
2010: “I never thought I would live to see the day when a person would be punished for wearing the Stars and Stripes in America!”
1966: “I never thought I would live to see the day when a person could be so unpatriotic as to defile the Stars and Stripes by adorning their clothing with it!”
2010: “We should all be proud of these young people for wearing our national flag to school!”
1966: “It’s our FLAG, not a fashion accessory!”
2010: “By wearing the flag on their clothes these students are merely demonstrating their love for their country!”
1966: “Anyone who would show such disrespect for our sacred national emblem as to wear it on their clothes must be a Communist!”
Funny, to me it just doesn’t seem that long ago that the Right Wing viewed anyone who would go out in public with a hundred little American flags on their bathing attire with precisely the same righteous the-Apocalypse-is-coming indignation as the current Defenders of Freedom view anyone whose heart doesn’t swell with pride at the sight. Considering the tea partiers’ worship of all things pre-1790, I wonder what opinion the Founding Fathers would have of Star-Spangled shorts.
So, all ye True Believers in the immutable principles of patriotism unite and guide us in the correct way to show our love of country, the one we all must follow lest we be deemed un-American. And do it quickly, before y’all change your minds again.
Despite being an award-winning columnist, Robert Mitchell doggedly remains the same eccentric attorney who has practiced general law in Morgan Hill for more than 30 years. Reach him at r.****@*****on.net.
