Sorry, America, no Cake this year?

For the last few days, my mind has been drawn to a comparison of Parenting and Patriotism.

  1. I love my children and I love my country.
  2. My kids are pretty neat kids and I like them better than most other people’s kids. Likewise, my country is a pretty neat country and I like it better than most other countries.
  3. When my kids do good things, I am proud on them and praise them. So too for my country.
  4. When my children engage in unacceptable behavior, I express my dissatisfaction and encourage them to remedy the behavior. When my country engages in unacceptable behavior, I express my dissatisfaction and engage in action to remedy that behavior.
  5. Luckily, My wife and I largely agree about what constitutes “unacceptable” behavior from our children and are able to apply sufficient force toward aiding a reformation. Sadly, my fellow citizens are so divided on what constitutes “unacceptable” behavior from my country, that I am not confident that any pressure I, and like minded citizens, can apply will have any significant influence aiding a reformation of my country’s unacceptable behaviors because so many other fellow citizens are patting my country on the back and praising the behaviors I condemn.

What is a Patriot left to do?

Cancel the Birthday Party?


All thorny Gordian knots

begin as minor tangles,

inconvenient, nothing more,

until some damned blind fool

decides that he, and he alone,

can somehow see the right of it

and thus begins to pull,

with all his sanctimony

and self-righteous might,

upon some random thread,

all the while oblivious

of the end result!

The harder that he pulls,

the tighter that new knot becomes.

Until, in the end,

the knot becomes so tight,

It will likely take

decades of concerted work

from many patient, caring souls

to undo the damage

wrought in but a moment

of unthinking haste

or uncaring arrogance.

A Melancholy Spring

Songbirds bring no joy

for all their urgent chirping.

Leaves collect, unraked,

along poolside patio.

Grass leaps joyously

skyward, mower still garaged.

Winter deadfall lays

untended about, unburned.

Daffodils came; went

unseen and unphotographed.

Irises glow now

in varicolored splendor

yet scarcely noticed,

in passing, by a weary

soul, slowly, recovering.