Being a student of history
and a spiritual person, I have been given to consider recently the necessity of
going through the rituals of standing and removing my hat during the playing of
the national anthem. History tells me
that the early Quakers, feeling that everyone is equal in God’s eyes, deigned
to remove their hats in the presence of the king. Being a person of a spiritual rather than a
secular frame of mind, I began to consider a few months ago if it was keeping
with my spiritual being to stand and remove my hat during the playing of the Star Spangled Banner. I came to the conclusion that my spirituality
meant more to me than an empty exercise.
Being a Quaker who swears
no oaths, I appeared in several trials in my career as an insurance claimsman
and would only affirm--not swear--to tell the truth. Likewise, I refuse to stand and repeat the
Pledge of Allegiance. I have only had
one occasion in recent history where such was the case. Recently, I attended a meeting of the Anna
Maria, FL city council as an interested observer in an issue they were
considering. I was given no grief by
anyone at my remaining seated.
Last week I was at my
usual haunt—McKechnie Field in Bradenton—to attend a Bradenton Marauder’s
baseball game. When the time came for
the national anthem, everyone was asked to stand and remove their hats whilst
the anthem was being played. I stood,
but did not remove my hat, as has been my usual recent practice. Afterwards, one of the ushers—a good friend
of mine and retired Air Force colonel—came over to me and asked if I had
forgotten to take my hat off. Without
thinking or measuring my words, I snapped back at him that I refuse to remove
my hat for no body or no thing. That
really got under his skin and he told me that, in his opinion, I was a f*cking
asshole and stormed off. I tried to
explain to him later, but he told me that he didn’t want to hear anything from
me and it was all he could do to keep from putting his fist through my
face. Of course, it bothered me
somewhat, because I think so highly of Jack.
A couple days later, at a July
4th weekend game, I approached Jack about halfway through the game—wearing
a patriotic hat with a American flag attached to it—and said to him that he may
think of me as an asshole, but I wished he would at least think of me as a patriotic asshole. He apologized to me for what he had said and
I apologized to him for the way I had responded to his inquiry. We shook hands, gave somewhat of a “man hug”,
and I told him that I didn’t want to lose his friendship and we went about our
business. Later on during the game I was
talking with one of the other ushers, when Jack passed by and gave me a poke in
the belly with his finger. I then knew
we were back together as friends.
I, too, am an Air Force
veteran and can understand Jack’s feelings of patriotism and why he feels that
way. He spent his career in the Air
Force and I honor him for that. To my
mind, the old Vietnam War jingoistic chant of, “My country, right or wrong…”
holds no water. When my country is right
I can live with that. However, when my
country is wrong, it’s my patriotic duty to change it.
But to insist that I must
salute the flag by removing my hat, telling me I must recite a meaningless
pledge to an inanimate object, or swear a vow that I disavow, I feel it is my
right as a person NOT to engage in meaningless rituals. In not doing such, I am being true to
myself. I need no one else’s approval. I need only that approval that comes from
within.
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