July 5th. Yet another Independence Day experienced and consigned to memory. We American’s are urged to experience feelings of dedication, of fond attachment for our country especially at this time of year.

As in past years, from curbside I witnessed the Wheaton 4th of July parade. I’d wager this parade is exceptional for the number and variety of parading organizations. Business vehicles are decorated in red, white & blue bunting, vehicles pass with flag waving pubic officials, contingents of marching Republican and Democratic party members, faces exhibiting confidence, — each and every parade float, every volunteer group conveys a purpose, a cause for which the curbside observer could become associated with…  I will not neglect to mention the police and the military seem to be a subtext of a parade spectacle of entertainment. One’s first glimpse of the approaching parade was the uniformed line of marching men and women, rifles shouldered, flags held to front, eyes to front, stepping in disciplined cadence.

A fine parade is entertaining. Who doesn’t enjoy the marching bands, drummers beating time, and the brass overlaying bright notes of trumpets and french horns, etc.  And then the organizations that come to impress the onlooker with a message of heritage, or of products and services. They entertain magnificently for a few minutes while they pass. One troupe of performers adept at gymnastic airborne-tumbling, combined basketball skills to expertly slam dunk a ball. Extraordinary without question!

Tiny American flags are passed out to embellish a child’s stroller, or to show from one’s shirt pocket. Given all of the cues to evoke those patriotic feelings, what is amiss with me?

I am just not feeling “it.” Just like you, my feelings come and they go. I rummage through my imagination to label, to understand what I am feeling. Still, I know that my body simply didn’t respond to any of this, or even to the sound of America The Beautiful played during the grand finale of last night’s fireworks show, with that involuntary flush of affection for my country.

No doubt, I find myself without patriotic inclination, because I know too much. The American classic kabuki theater “rolls on” in Washington and in all of the “red” states. A majority of those state’s citizens believe that ‘might makes right’ and that a strong man in the Oval Office has divine appointment to “restore” a lost ‘purity’ of greatness…

I will say it again:

Love-Of-Country – not feeling it.

Believing in love-of-country, when I cannot feel it.

Here are some photos that I captured at the parade:

This tune shows the meaning of love of place.  John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads.