I live in America. I live in the South. The South has a reputation that proceeds it most of the time, and the people of the South are both proud of that reputation and every connotation that goes along with being called a "Southerner". Now, to be fair, Oklahoma is the furthest Northern Southern state, yes, and we hang a bit to the west as well, but we are no doubt, 100%, and in-it-for-the-long-haul type of Southerners who will stand up with you to the end or put you to the ground flat. We're loyal to the bone and then some. Most of us are born and bred Sooners, but there are a few Pokes out there; not gonna lie about it, Oklahoma State has a fan or two. If you're born in Oklahoma you are not born a boy or a girl, that just really doesn't matter much to any of us really; what matters is your choice of colleges. Are you a Sooner or are you a Cowboy? There are probably 200 colleges in the area, but only two matter, and you will be branded at birth.
As Southern Americans, we are proud to hoist our fantabulous Old Glory (flag) whenever and wherever we get the opportunity. There are homeowner associations that have tried to thwart that practice, but here in Oklahoma, we tend to run those folks straight out of town and put them into the capable hands of the next Okie on their way out of our fine and fair state. We will fly our flag. Not only will we fly our flag, but we will also fly big, fat, gloriously oversized flags just because they are big, fat, gloriously oversized, and because they are the American flags we are so proud of. We love our country. We love our people. We love our flag. We love our God. If you come around to this part of the nation you'll find a few blue voters, yes, that's true, and you can tell who they are simply because they don't actually own an American flag. Truth in that statement. The folks who got up and voted for the other side are very very few and far between here in the Sooner State, but they do exist and they tend to fly other flags but not Old Glory. She's an inconvenience to them; not to me.
In my hood, in my little complex where I have lived over 5 separate times in my life, and I tell people I've lived here more than 150 years; we fly the American flag every day of the week. There are times we will fly three or four flags out on our balconies or on our doors and in our windows. Flag Day, Fourth of July (I'd say Trump's birthday, but that is Flag Day) and we tend to just pick a day we like and fly a few flags just to be sure the world understands that to encroach on this particular house may mean that you'll find Bibles, you'll find guns, you'll find friends, and you'll find endless support if what you're willing to die for is the same things we are willing to lay our lives on the line for; friends and family are part of that, but so is our American way of life, our freedoms, our personal choice in religion, our walk with our God, and the safety of our people.
My hood is made up of mostly elderly people now. When I first moved here they were in their middle ages and they were lively, hosting BBQs and complex parties because to hold a block party would exclude some of the folks. We hold entire housing parties when we party. We had a pool and we had several grills, but those days have hit the sand and are waiting perhaps for the next generation to come along and restore them to their glory days. Today most of my people talk about their own glory days, their military service, their police service, (they've mostly all retired years ago from both) and they talk about their great-grandkids, their grands, the way life has changed, and what means the most to them. Every conversation about precious memories always includes our American dream, our American way of living, our American freedoms, and what being an American means to them; to us.
Most of us are of European descent. Most of us know who and where our people come from, and we both honor and respect our ancestors; but we will never trade our American citizenry for another. I am about to move to Scotland on a permanent basis, but I will never stop being an American. I can't and won't call myself a Scottish citizen, by DNA I'm probably less than 13% Scottish now that the gene pool has been filled so many times over the past 360 years since my almost full Scottish ancestors came to what was known as the New World in 1660. William, James, Robert, Richard, and Reuben Stringfellow boarded the ships with their entire families and started what is now my life. I am grateful for the history, I appreciate the genealogy and study that went into finding out who my father's people are and were - - and then there's mom; damn Brit! LOL
My poor mom. Not only is she 90+% English, but she was also (sadly) born in Texas! What shame! How do I explain that to my soul? Oh well, Dad thought she was a cutie, and they made a very happy and wonderful life for themselves and for us kids as well. We'll just have to forgive the woman, she didn't pick her ancestors well - - maybe next time. God bless America! God bless the World. God bless each and every last one of us who call upon His wonderful name and who truly believe He is returning soon to save us from what we have done to this planet and to our magnificent country; long may my flag wave in honor of what we were and what we are in my heart.
Photo credit: Jude Stringfellow
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