Reactionary

This is my first Independence Day in my condo. The street outside my window was strangely silent, even for a holiday. The streets are closed for the parade, that’s why it was so quiet. I went to the park, partly to avoid the crowds, partly to do something so I wouldn’t feel like I’d wasted the day, partly because the weather is beautiful and my unpainted apartment is not.

Washington Square doesn’t get the press its mate across town does. It feels bigger, has fewer benches, fewer people, rarely a band or festival, and is without the ring of high profile restaurants and shops around it. When I moved, I missed Rittenhouse badly. I still do, but Washington Square is growing on me. Through the trees, I can almost see Independence Hall where the heralded document was signed. Independence. Freedom. Courage. All those things get a thorough airing in the news media around this time of year. In the recent past, Bush policies like the Patriot Act have been blamed for their wanton disregard to what is trumpeted as long-time American values. While that may be true, they’re not alone in the responsibility.

What’s constituted front page news lately speaks to the reality that things once valued are going the way of 401(k) balances everywhere. John and Kate. Michael Jackson (yes, he’s still dead). No, tales of Iraq don’t need to be on the front page every day either, but something of relevance must be. Seeing that John and Kate article on the front page of the paper almost gave me a stroke. I was embarassed. Embarassed and afraid for all of us.

A few hundred yards from where I’m sitting right now, a few intelligent men hammered out a singular document and signed it with names. Something of the kind hadn’t been done in their memories (but it wasn’t the first in history, unlike what the Constitution Center would have you believe). They broke away and ran out of Britain’s protection and into her list of enemies. The nation was a fledgeling, both in a governmental way and as far as infrastructure. The British Empire was nothing less than the greatest military power on earth. It had to be done.

Two hundred and thirty-three years later, the hall where everyone met is in a crime-riddled city, not far from where the titans of finance pulled off the biggest heist in history, plunging the nation into crippling debt while still mired in military entanglements from which there will be no graceful exit.

Where are the Jeffersons and Madisons and Adamses now?Who will figure it out and get us all out of here? Are there any titans left or is it all tumbleweed on top of the heap of humanity? I don’t know where the answer lies. But I know where it doesn’t. It isn’t in the bitching that life is unfair. It isn’t in the lip service to “tolerance”. It isn’t even at the farmer’s market or in yet one more story about a dead pop star. So… let’s stop talking about those.

Posted on July 4th, 2009 under Life •  Print •  Email • RSS 2.0 feed • Leave a response, or trackback