When I wrote the email that volunteered my home and family to host the foreign exchange student, I suggested that I could give her a unique perspective on the American experience. I think in my head that meant I could describe the places we lived around the country and the cultural nuances we claimed as our own from each assignment. I might not have thought it out further than trying to teach her about Carolina pulled pork, New Mexico green chile, or Central Coast California tri-tip, if I’m being totally honest. She may think it’s funny when I say “y’all” in my Oklahoma accent, but it’s not the broad view of America I was hoping to impart. I have less than a month left to figure out what I want to pass along to her.
We dragged XS out of bed early today, and went to the semi-annual Mile of Smiles. This is where we line the interstate and wave at the escorts and bus loads of veterans from World War II and the Korean War on their way to the airport for their Honor Flight tour of the memorials in DC. I don’t know what other Honor Flight groups around the country do to send off their honorees, but I’m rather fond of this tradition in our area. It’s growing every year, filling more and more of the frontage road in Dacono/Frederick. This time out we remembered to bring our big American flag out rather than borrow one from the Carbon Valley Rotary or from the Boy Scouts, whoever it was who has handed them out in the past. We waited longer than usual this morning, or maybe we just showed up earlier and the buses went by as normal. We chatted up a mom and her teenage son who wants to join the army while we waited, and then Mr S-P started a little impromptu highway cleanup. Someone produced a black trash bag from somewhere, and in no time all the folks within a couple carlengths from us had nearly filled it. Our flag didn’t want to stay wedged in the guard rail, so I ended up holding it the whole time, waving it whenever cars would honk their horns on the way down I-25. Once the actual veterans and escorts drove past, I waved it continuously, until my shoulders felt like they were going to grind to dust. XS wondered when she was going to get some Americana themed clothes like nearly every other person was wearing this morning (including the Mr and me). They should be popping up in stores shortly, before Memorial Day.
It’s incredibly rare that I decide after a single exposure to a song that I must own it. It almost always takes me a few listens to music before I’m willing to part with my money to acquire a copy. Last night I had one of those lightning-strikes moments most of the way through SNL. Donald Glover was both the host and the musical act with his band Childish Gambino. Their first number was okay, but I didn’t have much of a reaction to it. The song he debuted near the end of the show blew me away, and I don’t think I can claim to have understood what it was all about instantly. I couldn’t stop thinking about it this morning, and I looked it up to read the lyrics and to make sure I had the title right so I could buy it on iTunes. It was then that I watched the video, and got so much more out of it. It’s intense, and it’s deep. That should be Deep with a capital D. It was shocking and provoking and still dangerously compelling. Plus the music and performance were superb. I recommend it, but with caution. It takes a while to absorb. Kind of like America.
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