Vexillology

In America, it is not uncommon for an American to display the American flag on his or her residence.  Flags flying from porches, windows, or even flagpoles on the front lawn send the message that "I am an American and I love my country."  Each flag owner/displayer has his or her personal reasons to motivate the display of the American flag.

In Israel, an even greater percentage of Israelis fly the Israeli flag from their balconies, rooftops, front windows, and everywhere else.  One such Israeli family is the one we visited the other day.

Their home is in an area considered to be disputed territory by the U.S. State Department.  In flying the blue and white Israeli flag from their rear terrace, they are making an affirmative political/religious statement that carries implications far, far beyond those of the American who displays Old Glory from his or her home.

Indeed, when we drove up from the Holy City of Jerusalem to the north, we went through the Shomron area (otherwise known as the "West Bank"), and passed several Jewish settlements where the blue and white Israeli flag was copiously displayed.

If only more Americans appreciated the value of our flag as much as the Israelis value theirs.

Flagging the Fourth of July

I'm at home today, the Fourth of July, doing paperwork and avoiding the crowds and the traffic.

Seems that a goodly number of real estate salespeople, from diverse realty offices, have a gimmick to get their name in front of the populace: Planting minature American flags on people's lawns (with a business card, of course).

The prospect of a slide down the slippery slope of crass commercialism is marginally troubling, but it IS nice to drive, walk, run or bicycle down the street and see all the flags at the curbsides. And if it takes some good old American commercialism to make it happen, then that is not such a bad thing!

I was out riding my bike today for a good workout. I was riding down a marginal road by one of the the main streets here. The marginal road, of course, has all of the homes, and it is separated from the main highway by a long traffic island, planted with trees and grass. On the traffic island I saw an American flag on the ground. So I put on the brakes, turned around, picked up Old Glory and stood it up straight, then saluted it and continued on my way.

That's really all there is to report from here. It isn't much.

But in some respects, it really IS a big thing!

Happy Birthday, America!!!