I like milestones. I celebrate them.
Birthdays. Anniversaries. Major events.
We have a big one coming up. Among the biggest of the big. The country’s 250th anniversary of its birth. Our official declaration advising King George that we no longer desire to be part of his kingdom, that we were our own country, independent of his.
It’s everything wrapped into one. A birthday. An anniversary. A major event.
And I’ve celebrated more than a few.
As Jackson Browne sings: “In ’69 I was twenty-one and I called the road my own.” Indeed, I did. In the summer of 1969 I hit the road in my 1953 Oldsmobile that I painted an American flag on.
I loved America, then and now.
But it was misinterpreted by some.
One was Maria von Trapp. Yep, that Maria von Trapp from the “Sound of Music.” She ran the Trapp Family Lodge in Stowe, Vermont, where I secured a dish-washing job for the summer between college semesters.
I parked that car one night – my “Flag Mobile” – where all the waitresses stayed. A big “no-no.”
Maria wasn’t happy.
But it wasn’t just about the girls. Her big complaint was that I was “defecating” the flag. She was Austrian and a new, very patriotic, American citizen.
I think she meant “desecrating.” I wasn’t… but I took my one week’s severance pay of $35 and bought some moccasins and hit the road once again down to the Jersey Shore.
Odd Jobs and Odd Places
I worked construction there, near the site of where the Hindenburg went down, in Lakehurst. I stayed at the Breakers Inn, a tired old 1920’s former resort hotel in Seaside. It was filled with hippies and “free spirits,” me among them.
And then on July 20th, I drove the Flag Mobile to see a friend in New London, Connecticut, and watched the moon landing with her that evening.
Epic.
Then there was Woodstock. I bought tickets, but I didn’t want to wallow in the mud. I gave them away.
Maybe I should have gone.
Then on August 24th I turned 21. I celebrated with a drink featuring an American flag in it and mulled over where I’d been, and where I was heading.
In America, we can all call the road our own.
So, a few years later, in 1976, I found myself living in Washington, DC. I had a company that designed restaurant interiors. My wife at the time (who just passed recently), worked in the First Lady’s office at the White House under President Ford. It was an unsettling time. We had just pulled out of Vietnam with the fall of Saigon. We were still dealing with a gas crisis and long lines. Mortgage rates were upwards of 9%. Inflation rates were around 6% and rising.
And we think we have it bad today?
But despite all that, we had reason to celebrate. We were turning 200. Our Bicentennial!
Celebrating America’s Bicentennial
I spent that July 4th day and evening in 1976 on a boat in New York Harbor. It was filled with tall ships. Masts rising high. Flags flying. Sails full. And thousands of smaller boats. Millions of people all around. The Statue of Liberty was all lit up.
And then the fireworks. The Harbor was calm. The water mirrored the explosions in the sky.
Spectacular.
And here we are today. 50 years later. A half century. Can you believe it?
And we’re all still here. Our America. And you, if you’re reading this!
I include my own family… children and grandchildren. All thriving here on the Central Coast.
What a blessing. I am thankful every day. Who wouldn’t be?
For those who aren’t, I wish enlightenment for you. In this life, in this country, with our rights to live in liberty and pursue our dreams. Gifted to us by God, through our Founder’s wisdom...
Celebrate your good fortune.
Call the road your own.
Happy Birthday America! Don’t blow out the candles please.
There are wonderful things just waiting… on the road ahead.
Community Calendar:
Got a Santa Barbara event for our community calendar? Fenkner@sbcurrent.com