Being as The Fiance and I are living the Suburban Dream, we went to Lowe’s yesterday to buy an important element for our house. We have the picket fence (that we’ve rebuilt 4 times), we have the dog, and the spice rack. Sure, we have a quesadilla maker and 128 ceramic elephants, but no American flag. This, my friends, just won’t do.
It didn’t take much to find the flags in the store. Find the red umbrella, the tiki lamps, and :boom: there are the flags. I’m not sure at what point in history our patriotism fused with eating outside, but there you have it. Think of an American holiday: are you thinking of potato chips and hot dogs? Me too.
There was a momentary debate between the $7 chinsy metal pole and the $20 wooden post. We were going to go cheap because we’re on a frugality kick (I say kick..we all know that this hasn’t just started nor will it end, but it makes me seem less cheap this way.), but my dream has always been to have the upgraded flag holder. It looks so…um… American city purlieus. We then discussed the issue with upgrading the flag in time. Not only would we have spent extra money, but then we have the compounded issue of having an extra flag hanging around, our inability to rid ourselves of the surplus flag, and where we could find a Boy Scout troop that was holding a ceremony to retire Old Glory. In the end, we just bought the nice flag and decided that perhaps split-second financial decisions aren’t our strong suit.
Since it’s impossible to get The Fiance out of a home improvement store without first making a time-sucking round throughout the various departments, we set off in the direction of countertops. After rounding through the bathtubs and making a left into the paint department, we decided to compare a color sample to the fans in the lighting section.
As we stared upward into the illuminated bliss of sixty hynotic ceiling fans, a gray haired gentleman walked up to us.
“Good for you two!”
Maybe the guy works for the ceiling fan company? Is he an environmentalist and prefers fans to air conditioning?
“There aren’t many of us old guys left that still care about the flag. It’s nice to see young people involved. Were you in the Army?” He then reaches out and grabs The Fiance’s bicep. My eyes roll around in my head at this, but The Fiance puffs up like a peacock. Great, I’ll never hear the end of this one.
The kindly gentleman then asks The Fiance what time the flag needs to go out in the morning. The Fiance blinks- I giggle. (8:00 am, by the way) The gentleman asks what time it’s suppose to be brought in. The Fiance shifts and looks at me- I respond. And I’m rewarded with an, “Atta girl” from the retired Naval officer. Guess who’s beaming now.
The General and I head home to prepare a place for our waving banner of American pride. Now, I’m not sure, but I think I heard the garage open at 07:58 this morning. The Fiance was also humming “She’s a Grand Old Flag” for the next few hours and walking with very clean, precise steps. Happy Independence Day everyone!
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