Our first American Thanksgiving has come and gone. We ate turkey and considered the pilgrims in a home pulsating patriotism. And by pulsating patriotism, I mean the Christmas tree was covered in American flags. And by covered I mean, the branches were not obvious. Need I say more? Actually I do…need…to say more.
The living room paint colors were red, white and blue. Everywhere the eye fell, more Americana trinkets. From quilts to coasters to tablecloth to pieces of wood ribboned blue.
I was taken aback and drawn to consider what it would take for me to decorate a tree in Canadian flags. I can’t conceive of loving one’s country that much.
Indeed, part of me rises up in mockery. Ha, ha, ha, obsessive patriot nut jobs. Loving your America that much makes you seem crazy. And then part of me yearns to feel the same. Be in the cool club or stand jeering on the side lines feigning indifference? I think I want in. I just…don’t know how to get that excited about my homeland and I hate force-cheering. My twenty-eight years of Canadian apathy have made me hard. If only Stephen Harper could draw me into his fold like Barack Obama. Unfortunately Harper is a cardboard cut-out of a man. And even Obama’s inspiring words have yet to catapult me into pangs of patriotism for my other half.
I’m thinking maybe I need to pick up some red and white paint and a maple leaf stencil and start soul searching.
Okay, that’s all I can muster post-too-large-meal. Excuse me while I go back to my turkey stupor—a stupor I might have enjoyed if Elsie wasn’t so overstimulated from being passed around like a hot potato. We make an uncomfortable pair. Maybe I’ll strap her to my chest for a K-mart run. I hear some stores open at midnight on Black Friday. We need to stock up on flags. Practice makes perfect and I have a long way to go.
4 Comments
yeah.
wow.
that photo… makes my eyes… hurt.
I’m all about the stencil soul searching kiddo – I want in too! The jeering from the outside club is a little hard on the heart…great entry Bec. Loved it.
Excellent piece chica–yes the mysteries of ‘love for country’–it seems to me to be a laudable response as long as it doesn’t breed a feeling of superiority or or worse ‘clannishness—my vote, I think, is for humanity as a whole–you know ‘La Nueva Tierra’ kind of thing!
The flag in your picture in the triangle box was a flag from a military funeral…the one that is folded up after taps. Maybe their Dad or brother or Uncle’s flag from on top of the casket. Perhaps their showing excessive love of country is also a desire to honor the person who gave their life and to come to grips with their loss.
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