Red, White & The Blues

Today’s the 4th of July.
It’s an odd feeling, spending my first (real) holiday as an expat. It makes me homesick for reasons I can’t place.
Especially in the later years of my admittedly young life, my patriotism and feelings for the land of my birth have waxed and waned. I’ve never been what the Man in Black called “a flag-wavin’, patriotic nephew of my Uncle Same.”
Moreover, I can’t really remember the last time I really celebrated Independence Day. Mostly it was an excuse to purchase fireworks outside of city limits and set them off (illegally) inside. The last time I went to anything close to a celebration of the holiday was just after I graduated high school, and as I recall a friend and I almost started a brushfire. Most of my fond memories of the Fourth of July are a decade or more old—neighborhood barbecues in Huntsville or catching a Stars or Rangers baseball game mostly to watch the fireworks.
Maybe it’s the condition of being an expat that does it. Far from home, family and old friends—and farther from the culture in which I was steeped for almost all my life—it makes you feel more keenly an attachment to that which no longer surrounds you every second of every day.
It’s also possible that the recent political shift in the US has instilled in me a fresh dose of nationalism. While I certainly don’t agree with everything President Obama’s done (see my upcoming post on Honduras), I remember the hope for the future that I felt on the night of November 4, 2008. I remember feeling like maybe I wouldn’t have to be ashamed or apologetic for the actions of my nation. I’m not about to sport a “These Colors Don’t Run” or “Proud to be an American” shirt, but it’s an improvement nonetheless.
Whatever it is, I feel nostalgia and longing for the Land of the Big PX, as a friend calls it. So here’s to you, Old Glory. I’ll be cooking hot dogs and raising a glass to you this evening.

***Addendum***
Colombia may have its own screwed-up logic to it, but not when it comes to packaging food. Hot dogs (or salchicha) are sold in packs of six. Hot dog buns? Also in packages of six. Brilliant!