Plastic patriotism only appeals to the lowest common denominator of American. It’s the kind of rah-rah posturing that the-less educated, less-intelligent, less-motivated, and wholly immature of our population seek when they’re unable to find any satisfaction in their personal lives.
Who wore it better? No, not Melania’s Dolce and Gabbana, or the Democratic women’s black garb, or the Republican women’s red, white, and blue garb, or all the men’s dark suit-bright tie combinations. I speak of the one item no Washington politician would be caught dead without at a State of the Union address: a troop.
For many veterans, patriotism is a force that gives their service its meaning. Most of us hold that love of country deep in our hearts. And some of us like to pull it out and put it on full display like a regiment of red, white, and blue peacocks.
How should a veteran think about the Colin Kaepernick-police brutality-national anthem-NFL-Trump-NASCAR shitshow that has transpired, first slowly over the past few years, then really fast this past weekend, like a C-RAM farting rounds into the air over a FOB? Is there a right way to be an American, a vet, and an NFL fan? Aren’t you all just as frigging tired as I am — of being shocked, of being appalled, of being mad and disappointed and a little uncertain of where the hell this mass of humanity is careening to next?