Let Freedom Ring

In the dawn's early light I got to thinking about being British. It was 6:30 a.m. on July 4th. and I was awakened not by the rockets' red glare but by the continual cawing of canyon crows, which kept me from falling back asleep on this day of celebrating our independence from mother England. Back in the day, say 300 years ago, a group of crazy religious fanatics who wanted England's brand of Protestantism to reflect their own narrow, sectarian views, left for the British colonies, a land already stolen from an indigenous people and in the throes of continual plundering mode by the English throne, in order to establish their own community of religious intolerance, a tradition which continues today with our Christian right. Cotton Mather and his merry gang of Puritan pranksters scared the bejesus out of their churchgoing constituents, framing much of daily life around a continual need of proving one's righteousness to placate a truly pissed off God. What holy father wouldn't be angry, given such a gathering of wayward, sinful souls. If the Pilgrims had waited just a mere 20 years England's religious reformation might have embraced the grim and sober tenets of the Pilgrim's brand of Protestant craziness. But, drunk on the notion that they must practice their own bigoted, racist and narrow-minded faith without the shackles of accepting other beliefs, off they went. Their adventure upon the high seas and subsequent landing in America is the stuff of which legends are made. Our quaint myth of the Pilgrims' landing and the breaking of bread and sharing of fowl with the friendly heathens rings true to school children marching in Thanksgiving Day parades but has little real historical traction, although the slaughtering of nearly 45 million turkeys for our annual Thanksgiving celebration makes one wonder if more than just the children are gullible. Life in the colonies under the rule of King George III of Great Britain couldn't have been much different than life in England under the same rule of law. But, oh dear, the taxes. That onerous tax on tea was the final straw. Thank goodness our own Tea Party today in America is ever vigilant on the tax front. So, just where am I going with this? Well, I'm not sure what I'm celebrating on 4th of July. A land grab from the Indians? Englanders that turned on their own country? Religious zealots that formed their own more perfect union? Had we done nothing and simply been law-abiding English folk residing in the colonies we would be English today and instead of launching fireworks and imbibing in potato salad we would be celebrating the Wimbledon semi-final victory of fellow countryman Andy Murray while downing some fish and chips and a not-so-cold beer. Would that be so bad?