So, another Memorial Day came and went. Almost everyone got their day off – and my local library got three days in a row. Our Usurper-in Chief got to bloviate once more. There were, of course, sales galore, barbecues, and throngs of people just having good time. Our dear city, where Memorial Day is usually the official start of the air conditioning season, was blessed with a magnificent day – warm, sunny, breezy, low humidity; just perfect.
I made a mistake of actually leaving my stinking borough, which was long ago overrun by barbarian hordes, where English is pretty rare, and American flags are rarer still (even on Memorial Day), and traveled to Manhattan – because I simply had to enjoy the sunshine somewhere. And I never felt more like looking for the wanted ads in Houston like I did on that gorgeous New York Monday.
There were, as usual, big crowds taking advantage of the rare spring weather. Thanks again to He Who Must Not Be Named and who canceled Fleet Week, there were no sailors in those crowds (bummer for me, as I enjoy seeing real men on the streets of our city for a change). All those people – and I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of the ones who somehow acknowledged what the day was. Moreover, it was another variation on “multicultural” garbage that I was trying to escape – apparently in vain. Throngs and throngs of people (some of them literally stinking),speaking in barbarian tongues; most notably, “Hispanics” and, even more soul-pleasing, a whole rainbow of the practitioners of the religion of peace. It was such a perfect, totally Memorial Day-themed scene!
But eventually the sun, that natural healer from the Almighty, calmed me down a bit, and my brain started thinking about different things. Enemies that our warriors died fighting – Nazis, Communists, Muslims. All the malevolent forces who tried and are still trying to destroy America – and the Jews; everyone hates Big Satan and little Satan. And yet here I am – a free American. And, as dorky as it sounds, I was reminded once again that I owe it to their memory as well as to my conscience to never surrender and to never give up. I always joked that one of the reasons I do not want to move out of New York is in order not to give up my position to invading liberals and other America-haters. Well, jokes aside, I really feel like this.
So, Houston, I love you, and you do have many more real men roaming you streets, but I am staying put – because falling back and surrendering is not an option, as we, American patriots, are reminded every Memorial Day.