When I was six, our music teacher taught us the lyrics to "You're a Grand Old Flag." You know, you're a grand old flag / you're a high-flyin' flag / and forever in peace may you wave! I really was proud to be an American and live amidst the amber waves of grain. In the throes of youthful patriotism, I composed an addition to the song--a bridge, if you will. It fit snugly between the original lyrics:
Every heart beats true for the red, white, and blue / where there's never a boast or brag
So should auld acquaintance be forgot / keep your eye on the grand old flag!
May we help the grand old flag / the children ask the president
May we help the grand old flag / the children ask George Bush
Oh, you're a grand old flag / you're a high-flyin' flag...
I bet you can't guess which ones are the real words and which ones were mine, they're so intricately interwoven and, uh, tastefully chosen. I don't understand why my version never caught on...
In that spirit of patriotism, I'd like to say thank you to Señor Columbus for searching for the New World, opening Europe's eyes to awareness of another whole continent, beginning the mislabeling of an entire race of native people, and being the inspiration for hundreds of those catchy educational songs about the Nina and the Pinta and the Mighty Santa Maria. But mostly for the big parade downtown with the King and the Queen and all the things that will close down, including our school, so that I can sleep all morning long.
P.S. Quote of the day
(from 8th grade, of course)
Me: "Do you guys know what I mean when I say 'potluck'?"
Boy: "It's where leprechauns go!"