When I was proud to be an American screen doors slammed, cricket's chirruped lullabyes outside open windows on hot summer nights, their voices and the occasional baby's cry wafting from the neighbor's house 3 doors down sang America to sleep, and coal smoke could be seen streaming from chimneys on nearly every building in town on cold winter mornings.
The cumbersome box with the tiny glass screen sitting atop the Philco radio presented a world "out there" that came only in shades of grey. Though called black & white the only white that could be found was the "snow" and the only black, the too oft noticed horizontal line that fell slowly from top to bottom until someone jumped up to fiddle with the rabbit ears perched precariously on whatever surface might offer the best reception.
When I was proud to be an American kids might actually FAIL a grade in school and have to repeat it, and parents weren't arrested for using the form of discipline known as a sift kick in the pants.
When I was proud to be an American our country had soldiered through the rationing of everything from soup to nuts, scavenged far and wide for scrap rubber and metal, learned first hand how to make do or do without; everyone united in the goal of crushing the evil of Hitler on one side of the world and avenging the attack at Pear Harbor on the other.
When I was proud to be an American my grandfather was a Republican (yes Republican) township trustee who fought to get water and sewer lines installed in an area dotted with out houses and water buckets; a grandfather who convinced his constituents to pay for fire hydrants that he then layed along the roads throughout the community even though the county kept turning down the township's request for the needed fire protection--and eventually the county relented. His party didn't matter as much to people as what he tried to do.
When I was proud to be an American Joe McCarthy had been spanked and sent home his, tail between his legs after America remembered that the only thing they had to fear was fear itself.
When I was proud to be an American our manufacturing base was unsurpassed in the world. We were innovators, producers, visionaries, humanitarians, neighbors to the world and respected by the world. Our economy was growing and our dreams for America's future kept pace.
And then came some rude awakenings.
The Civil Rights movement reminded me that The Land of the Free was only free for some.
Vietnam reminded me that not all wars are fought for just reasons.
Then there was Nixon. (Need I say more?)
And then Reagan. Reagan who thouroughly despised the very government he wanted to lead and disdained any and all who seemed unable to "pull themselves up by their bootstraps". Reagan who moved heaven and earth to squash any government program that might be seen as giving a hand up to the less fortunate.
Reagan, the man upstaged by a monkey during his B-acting career. The man who set the stage for the monkey currently known as POTUS 43.
POTUS 43 who believes a lie is as good as--no--better than the truth when it helps you achieve your own selfish desires. Matters not if the lie is told to your wife, your children, your country, the world. Matters not what disasterous effect your lies might have on anyone else.
POTUS 43 who believes that torture is ok, even preferrable as long as it gets you the answers you want, whether they be true or false answers.
POTUS 43 who believes that talking tough and beating people (and countries) up proves his manhood.
POTUS 43 who thinks the Constitution and Bill of Rights only apply to him and his cronies.
POTUS 43 who believes the rule of law does NOT apply to him and his cronies.
POTUS 43 who, after spending 40 years in an alcoholic, drug induced fog has done more harm to the faith to which he claims to adhere than any anti-christ could dream of accomplishing.
POTUS 43 who's idea of sacrifice during a time when our service people are dying and their families suffering is to go to the mall and shop.
POTUS 43 who has mangled the English language, insulted the intelligence of the majority of the world with his cowboy antics, invaded and occupied a sovereign nation because he wanted to and he could, who has discounted the advice of any but his primate cohorts, and smirked his way around the globe pretending that he had actually heard of the countries he has landed in prior to Karl Rove and the Supreme Court handing him a position he never earned and Diebold giving him a return appearance.
Yes, I was proud to be an American once--when screen doors slammed and windows were opened to the breeze and the crickets song at night.
I would love to be proud to be an American again before I die.
To that end I continue to wait for Wes Clark to enter the race for president. Perhaps my wait will be in vain, perhaps not. I will wait regardless.
I will wait because I believe that a man who is already highly respected around the world will have the best chance of regaining the world's respect for America.
I wait because I truly do believe he meant it when he vowed to protect and serve the Constitution.
I wait because I think he has the intelligence, experience and just plain good sense to find the best way out of the morass that we find ourselves in today.
I wait because I've yet to find anyone who comes closer to my idea of the kind of person I would follow into the fray to right the wrongs and heal the wounds the world suffers today.
I wait because I must.
I would like to be proud to be an American again before I die.