If I can ‘kick’ The Indigo Girls, Debra Messing, Dixie Chicks, Garrison Keillor, Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me, – Alec Baldwin never got to get on the list I detest smarm whether natural or role – and more besides, what makes you think your “enlightened” stance on disrespect to our National Ensign and the horrible-to-sing anthem its fifteen stars and fifteen stripes over Fort McHenry inspired will cause me to say “oh, well, what can I do?”
What I can do is listen to folk or rock or classical on radio or cd, read, write, garden, fish fuck, take inebriated hammock test pilot rides. I can imbibe. I can count clouds. I can take long walks in new woods. I can await your return to sanity and respect for the nation whose freedom allows you to kowtow to a buncha klowns whose liberty comes with (I am sure) clauses in contracts stipulating behavior. I shall return to your church when you shake the stupid out from your choir.
The National Basketball Association has an All Stand rule for its rendition of The Star Spangled Banner. That’s all-stand for the benches, not those paying the freight. If Roger The Dodger can wrest his way from tampering with officiating and on-field antics, perhaps he and various counsel can convene a meeting with the National Football League Players Association to amend its players agreement before the networks begin once again televising the National Anthem circus because the sight of yet more overpaid fools taking a knee or imitating a trio of 1968 Mexico City Olympians standing on their victors’ stand with glack-gloved fists clenched overhead as America’s Song played. Their grievance was perceived as real then and perhaps it was, and perhaps their action helped spur a nation to quicker response.
But this “see me” faux activism inspired by a quarterback whose waning career needed some kind of boost, whose claim to oppression is dubious at best, who says he is standing up for the downtrodden (and as yet no press release about the millions sent to the suffering from his coffers) has begun attracting me-too’ers across the land. Will college and high school kids soon be following? You betcha. At least they do not play The Anthem at volleyball games – so far. Just how much of this is contrived to bellow forth as a smokescreen before our actual, real problems is a matter of further conjecture elsewhere. But what I do know is I have a choice. I have both a remote and some real, actual buttons and knobs and I know how to use them.