These Colors Don’t Run

I’ll wear my patriotic shirt

On a scorching July day

Red, white, and blue displayed

In the shape of a flag, hurray!

RED for valor and strength

Although these days it seems

That bluster and lies have replaced those

The further right we lean.

And WHITE for innocence and purity

Even as we confine kids to cages

Perhaps white stands for blindness now

As we ignore their desperate faces.

BLUE for justice and perseverance–

Justice for whom? Perseverance in what?

When our courts favor a select few

And our system leaves some to rot.

Let freedom ring, we cry

The Stars and Stripes salute

But a kneeling man is chastised

His freedom of speech is moot

I know my verse is lacking, y’all, and I’ll never be a true poet. But my country is hurting right now. And worse, we’re hurting innocents. I’ll celebrate the 4th, but not with a blind eye to the atrocities we’re committing.

Peace, people

Coming Attractions

This next week is going to be spent preparing for fun. I’m leaving on a road trip to spend some time with a good friend in Kingsport, Tennessee, on the 9th, and that kind of fun requires some serious forethought.

My car needs an oil change and a good cleaning. My nails need to be manicured and pedicured. I have to think about what needs to be packed. My hair needs to grow an inch. Okay, the last one’s unlikely to happen unless a miracle occurs, but I can wish, right?

Of course Wednesday is the 4th of July. I’m not feeling particularly patriotic this year, but Studly Doright will have the day off. We’ll most likely cook burgers on the grill and maybe catch a matinee. Oh, and we’ll probably spend the night being annoyed by firecrackers. When did I get old?

On Thursday I have my annual physical. Whoopee. There’s nothing like being poked and prodded and having to pay for the privilege. And when one is in her sixties, as I am, there’s no telling what one will learn. Cholesterol too high? Blood pressure out of whack? I can’t wait to see what’s wrong with me this year. Again I ask, when did I get old?

On the less depressing side, my husband, Studly Doright, is doing better on his road to recovering from minor back surgery. He’s been able to sleep, and he’s gotten his appetite back, so he’s not nearly as justifiably grouchy as he’s been since the procedure. Life is pretty good, even for a couple of old folks.

Peace, people.