America is a lot of country to love. Patriotism is love of one's country. So here are a few things I love, or recall loving about America.
I love America The Beautiful as opposed to the America of The Battle Hymn of the Republic.
I love that first job I got at age thirteen in Minot North Dakota, coaching 4th and 5th grade girls in softball and volleyball. I loved the look on my players' faces when they got their first hit.
I loved my job as usher at the DCPA where I got to listen to The Brahms Requiem, and to witness performance of The Buddy Holly Story.
I loved my job at Sylvan Lake in The Black Hills. I loved honeymooning at one of its cabins three years later, where my new husband and I shared the same dream. I loved our family reunion forty years later where I met the twins, my grand Nephew and Niece, who rode peeking out from their grandparents backpacks most of the way on our hike up Terry Peak, memorably curtailed by a sudden thunderstorm that we mostly outran.
I love the freedom to risk, to make honest mistakes. I am thinking of my marriage that also found its final chapter at that same little Eden in The Black Hills. Where the emperors clothes no longer covered a young couple that grew apart in what felt like tragedy.
I loved the fields of North Dakota where I chased many a Monarch butterfly, so long unaware that I could neither reach nor outrun them in their high reels across the plain.
I loved the psychodrama plays at The Moreno Institute, its the stage with its balcony and colored footlights. I loved my International friends there who taught me French tongue twisters and who acted out their life's stories in role plays or dramas based in their real worlds.
A lot of people mistake patriotism for unquestioning nationalism, my country right or wrong. I do not have any idea how to love all of fifty states, most of which I have never seen. It is a strange feeling to realize what abstractions replace a sighting of The entire South, not to mention Indiana, Kansas, Maryland Washington DC West Virginia., Nevada Utah., Hawaii, and Alaska.
I loved joining the Great Peace March across America in what year I forget, though I was probably the only person there where someone actually tried to start a fight with me for some unknown affront. Happily I escaped unscathed in time to head on to The Women's Music Festival in Michigan, which I definitely loved until I fell asleep in the middle of the outdoor premier of Desert Hearts. I do however, own my own copy of the video.
I love teachers, music teachers, art teachers, I love learning and still do love teaching, my way of working to enhance my pupils and clients ability to enjoy their lives in the face of childhood mental illness, drug addiction and Alzheimer and dementia. I love that I was able to pursue that calling.
I love doctors and nurses who keep trying to pull rabbits out of hats, like the sorcerer's apprentice trying to mop up the continual distresses of humans, each one of whom is destined for a tragic end.
I love the builders who raise schools and airports and hospitals from flat earth, I love astronauts and actors, their sense of adventure.
I love painting for several hours per creation. I love when I hear people express their in-loveness with my paintings. I love to write exactly what I want to convey, a story or essay or poem and when someone connects.
I love Carmel Sutra Ice Cream (Ben and Jerry’s).
I love talking or chatting online into the wee hours of the night with long-time friends who live far away.
I love playing Scrabble with two friends, one of whom grew up loving to read the dictionary, I don't think I have won against her yet.
I do love women who love women. I love their wittiness and laughter, their wondrous sexiness.
I love good men with their spirit, generosity and pride and such widespread handsomeness of soul.
Lastly but not least, I love my cats, Charley and Star for as long as they are with me and I with them.
I guess you could say I am in love with my own world, but then, who could possibly get their arms around a whole country? Well anyway I'm imagining a gigantic hug.
I love America The Beautiful as opposed to the America of The Battle Hymn of the Republic.
I love that first job I got at age thirteen in Minot North Dakota, coaching 4th and 5th grade girls in softball and volleyball. I loved the look on my players' faces when they got their first hit.
I loved my job as usher at the DCPA where I got to listen to The Brahms Requiem, and to witness performance of The Buddy Holly Story.
I loved my job at Sylvan Lake in The Black Hills. I loved honeymooning at one of its cabins three years later, where my new husband and I shared the same dream. I loved our family reunion forty years later where I met the twins, my grand Nephew and Niece, who rode peeking out from their grandparents backpacks most of the way on our hike up Terry Peak, memorably curtailed by a sudden thunderstorm that we mostly outran.
I love the freedom to risk, to make honest mistakes. I am thinking of my marriage that also found its final chapter at that same little Eden in The Black Hills. Where the emperors clothes no longer covered a young couple that grew apart in what felt like tragedy.
I loved the fields of North Dakota where I chased many a Monarch butterfly, so long unaware that I could neither reach nor outrun them in their high reels across the plain.
I loved the psychodrama plays at The Moreno Institute, its the stage with its balcony and colored footlights. I loved my International friends there who taught me French tongue twisters and who acted out their life's stories in role plays or dramas based in their real worlds.
A lot of people mistake patriotism for unquestioning nationalism, my country right or wrong. I do not have any idea how to love all of fifty states, most of which I have never seen. It is a strange feeling to realize what abstractions replace a sighting of The entire South, not to mention Indiana, Kansas, Maryland Washington DC West Virginia., Nevada Utah., Hawaii, and Alaska.
I loved joining the Great Peace March across America in what year I forget, though I was probably the only person there where someone actually tried to start a fight with me for some unknown affront. Happily I escaped unscathed in time to head on to The Women's Music Festival in Michigan, which I definitely loved until I fell asleep in the middle of the outdoor premier of Desert Hearts. I do however, own my own copy of the video.
I love teachers, music teachers, art teachers, I love learning and still do love teaching, my way of working to enhance my pupils and clients ability to enjoy their lives in the face of childhood mental illness, drug addiction and Alzheimer and dementia. I love that I was able to pursue that calling.
I love doctors and nurses who keep trying to pull rabbits out of hats, like the sorcerer's apprentice trying to mop up the continual distresses of humans, each one of whom is destined for a tragic end.
I love the builders who raise schools and airports and hospitals from flat earth, I love astronauts and actors, their sense of adventure.
I love painting for several hours per creation. I love when I hear people express their in-loveness with my paintings. I love to write exactly what I want to convey, a story or essay or poem and when someone connects.
I love Carmel Sutra Ice Cream (Ben and Jerry’s).
I love talking or chatting online into the wee hours of the night with long-time friends who live far away.
I love playing Scrabble with two friends, one of whom grew up loving to read the dictionary, I don't think I have won against her yet.
I do love women who love women. I love their wittiness and laughter, their wondrous sexiness.
I love good men with their spirit, generosity and pride and such widespread handsomeness of soul.
Lastly but not least, I love my cats, Charley and Star for as long as they are with me and I with them.
I guess you could say I am in love with my own world, but then, who could possibly get their arms around a whole country? Well anyway I'm imagining a gigantic hug.
© November 2013
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