Happy Fourth of July

I know, it is not July 4th just yet, but my state's capital is celebrating today so that is why I chose the title. And no, I am not going to write a generic entry about pride or patriotism, not exactly.

The Fourth of July was never a big deal to me or my family really. We would go to the parade, have a cook out, watch fireworks and play with sparklers. It was still an exciting day for us kids. Especially as summer started to get boring, it was a break from our monotonous visits to the pool, lazy days around the house, and nights of kickball in the court.

Today, fourth of July is even less exciting. Fireworks hardly are impressive, and my over-exposure to patriotic music in high school has caused for lack of appreciation in that area as well. As a music person I can listen to a well played Sousa march or American jazz band classics, but I have played my way through 'Stars and Stripes Forever' and 'Armed Forces Salute' enough times that I could sing you my exact part, note for note.

There is one part of high school that kept the frail and faint flame of patriotism alive in me: The annual Jazz Band & Chorale trip to our nations capital. We kept plenty busy visiting sights and museums, which is interesting but the main goal of our trips was to go into the retirement homes and centers for veterans to spend time with them and entertain them with patriotic pieces and tunes from their era. The appreciation those veterans had for our visits was so touching, after all they had done for us and their country. I can still remember the final performance my Junior year, we played a show on a cramped stage in one retirement home. Our director spoke about how those older folks in the audience are part of "The Greatest Generation", and one feeble old man struggled to stand and declared, "NO! I believe that they", pointing to us, "Are the greatest generation." Tears filled most of our eyes at the endearing statement from someone who chose to put his life in danger so that we could safely grow up and learn the music we were playing that day. It is small memories like that, not necessarily fireworks, floats or flags, that keep patriotism alive for me.