Ah, summer.
Ah the memories of the 4h of July, Independence Day, and how the sky would light up with fireworks. I remember looking up at the glittery colors. I remember the loud booms from the rockets and the mortars. I remember the feeling I had too.
This was wonderful.
I remember hearing The Star Spangled Banner playing out loud and the feeling I had in my heart, which is the same feeling I still have whenever I hear our National Anthem.
I understand our problems as a nation. I understand that a bird needs both wings to fly straight. I understand that neither the right side or the left side of our government seem to fly straight at all.
But that’s okay.
We all have our troubles and like that saying goes, “America, love it or leave it!”
See, the thing is I do love her . . .
and therefore, I can’t leave.
Sure, I have made my list of mistakes. I have lived in unpleasant ways and said unpleased things.
Of course, I have.
I am human. I am flawed.
I am frustrated and confused.
I have bills and taxes to pay. I have jumped over dollars to pick up pennies or been pennywise and dollar foolish. Yes, I have.
I am all of the above, including the fact that I have frequently been part of the problem instead of the solution.
I admit to this. I own this.
I have no excuses.
I have my hat in hand, and I stand humble and flawed. However, I understand this more now than ever before.
I understand the line in the sand.
I understand that retreating further and further only leads me to give up my ground, until finally, there is no ground left. Next, I have no place to stand.
I remember the days of way back when. I remember being young and free enough to be outside or at the town pool. I remember the excitement and the pure joy when the ice cream truck came around.
I remember eating ice pops that changed the colors of our tongues. I remember shivering after being in the pool for so long that my lips turned blue.
I remember the splash fights. I remember jumping in the pool or trying to dive like I could do back flips or front flips. I remember screaming cannonball and curling my knees up to my chest to see how big a splash my little body could make when I landed in the pool.
I remember the days before misinformation. I remember life before the internet. I remember when the news on television was less disturbing. (Or so it seemed.)
I also remember the days before everyone I knew had their doctorate in social media.
I remember when my friend’s list was something in my head and not a number on a social profile.
I actually knew who my friends were.
And I knew who they weren’t
(at least, for the most part).
Everyone thinks they know what they’re doing now. Of course they do. All they need is some Wi-Fi and a good search engine. And there it is, both information and misinformation, right there, at your fingertips.
Feel sick? Search for your symptoms on the internet. Why go to a doctor?
Just search for the cure, right?
But there is no cue for ignorance,
at least not this way.
I remember when . . .
there was no such thing as cyber-bullying. Additionally, I remember working hard to find dirty pictures. I had to work for my porn when I was a kid.
We had to get lucky and find magazines to see dirty things, which can now be found by anybody, anywhere, regardless of their gender or age.
Just go online . . .
No one imagines anymore. People have an app to do this for them.
I get it, this allows for a certain laziness so that we can focus on the important things.
But what’s more important than living real life?
Everything else seems virtual now.
What’s better than an exercised imagination?
What’s better than a mind that grows strong and learns to dream or invent new things?
I miss the days when opinions were only opinions. I miss the days before politics became the new religion.
I say this because it seems to matter less about what God you pray to and now it’s more important to know which person you voted for.
And now, everything is a fad. Everything is posted on social media. The world of status has changed because who you are and your personal content does not matter.
All that matters is how many followers you have.
I have been humbled over the last few years. I am the aftermath of poor investments and unwise choices. I am on my own, which is fine.
However, the world is a strange place to navigate through. And this has always been the case.
Life has always been hard as it was.
But I see things getting harder.
I see things going away from personal interaction.
No one talks anymore.
Everything is said by emails and texts.
Warmth for the hand is more virtual now.
And that sucks, if you ask me.
Were things right when I was young?
Did our government lie to us?
Yes on both accounts.
But this has nothing to do with the spirit of our country.
Our country is perfect to me . . .
we are the ones who are flawed.
Not our land.
The broken wings of the left or the right side of our government makes it hard for us to fly straight, and no, I do not believe in the gods of politics.
I believe in other things.
I am neither far right nor far left.
I am a working man. I am the heart of the working, middle class. I am the one who refuses to let the flag touch the ground because I still feel the same as I did when I was a boy and heard our National Anthem.
America,
I have not forgotten what you mean to me.
I have not forgotten your stars or your stripes.
Nor have I forgotten what we had to do to keep our flag flying high.
I have seen what happens when a man loses the love of his life.
Therefore, I realize now more than ever, I cannot and will not lose my love for you, or my country.
Forgive us our trespasses.
And like The Son said on the cross, Forgive us
for we know not what we do . . .
The Written Addiction 