Symbols of America

                                          American symbols:  Flag, Fourth of July activities

                  On the front cover of the Farmer s' Almanac, the date of the beginning of this publication was exactly 200 years ago: 1818! Looking in the index, I have an "Aha!" moment: “Symbols that immediately invoke a feeling of AMERICAN NOSTALGIA.”

                Since February owns many special days, I turn to the article by Glenn Morris, p. 100 ff. “Americana” describes materials typically associated with our civilization, our culture. Occasionally, the Super Quiz in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette poses questions under the title “Americana.” Now to the symbols.

1.       AMERICAN BALD EAGLE landed on The Great Seal of the United States in 1782 despite Benjamin Franklin’s opinion that it was a “bird of low moral character.” Secretary of Congress Thomas proposed it as the central holder on the seal.

2.       APPLE PIE. Though apples are not exclusively American––they came with the 17^th century colonists––but pies shown cooling on a windowsill during simpler times connotes American food better than any other. Next would be fried chicken, and third, the hot dog.

3.       AMERICAN BISON. Between 1913-1938, the U.S. Mint stamped the “Buffalo nickel” in an attempt to beautify coinage with American themes. In 2016, President Obama signed the National Bison Legacy Act, which joined the bison and the bald eagle as the two animals officially honored by Congress.

4.       THE FLAG. Known variously as “Old Glory,” the “Stars and Stripes,” and the “Star-Spangled Banner,” the flag was adopted on June 14, 1777.

5.       FOURTH OF JULY PARADE. Where cities large and small unite in pomp, circumstance, and celebration. Picnics and fireworks join parades as must-dos.

6.       WHITE PICKET FENCE. From Colonial times, such a fence was designed to keep children and chickens close. Soon, it came to represent a middle-class American Dream—owning a home in a peaceful, suburban area. It entered the pop culture lexicon with Mark Twain’s  “Tom Sawyer.”

7.       NORMAN ROCKWELL’S ILLUSTRATIONS. His paintbrush seemed to be on the pulse of America. Originally decried by the critics, his work is loved by many and hung in myriad homes.

8.       THANKSGIVING. We celebrate faith, family, and good fortune annually with those we love.

9.       UNCLE SAM. During the War of 1812, Samuel Wilson worked with a government contractor, Elbert Anderson, to ship large quantities of beef and other commodities to the soldiers overseas. The markings on the crates were E.A.U.S. Soldiers knew that the goods were handled by Samuel Wilson and began calling it “Uncle Sam’s beef.” The moniker stuck and now represents U. S. property. The iconic photo of Uncle Sam pointing his finger at us, was done by James M. Flagg using his own likeness.

10.   STATUE OF LIBERTY. Given to us by France to represent the triumph of democracy and liberty, it was placed seaward of Ellis Island to welcome new immigrants. It is a symbol of their new lives in America.

Thank you, Glenn Morris.  

c 2018 PL, dba lovepat press, Benton AR USA

  

It wasn’t on my bucket list, but . . .

Siblings, July 2016 - my 80th birthday

                 . . . neither was a summer spent attending San Diego State studying piano and singing Orff’s “Carmina Burana” with the Roger Wagner Chorale.               

                . . . neither was a visit to Mammoth Cave when the children were small.

         .       . . . neither was a cross-country driving trip to Disneyland, Four Corners and two national parks.        

                   . . .  neither was a sisters’ trip to Hilton Head with day trips to Savannah, Charleston, and Tybee Island.

                No, an upper, first- molar root canal was never, ever on my agenda. In fact, I didn’t even know what a root canal was. Friends said, oh, yes, they’d had them; they were not bad at all. No residual pain after the anesthetic wore off; nothing to be alarmed about.

                But the mother of all toothaches held me about the face like a lasso being pulled ever tighter. And this was on a weekend! I looked up the website, the email address of my dentist, and left messages. Then I left a similar one on their voice mail. I begged for an emergency visit as soon as possible. The latter message worked. The receptionist called on Monday morning with an early-afternoon opening. I ARRIVED early.

                X-rays showed an abscess.” Yes,” Doc said, “I can pull it, or you can get a root canal. And I don’t do root canals.” I needed that tooth, I thought, so I opted for the latter. After prescribing a round of penicillin and pain meds, he gave instructions on contacting an endodonist and beginning the regimen of meds.

                I slept the rest of the day and, after calling for an appointment in Little Rock, all the next day. By Wednesday, the pain had abated, and I went back to Aleve. “Oh, goody!” I thought. “The pain’s gone; perhaps I can cancel the procedure.” Dumb-da-dumb-dumb! NOT!

                “No, no, no, no! You cancel now, and it’ll come back to bite you worse than ever!” Several folks warned me when I expressed my feelings. In the meantime, the LR doc had a cancellation for the next Monday at noon. Son Eric agreed he’d get me there and back, bless ‘im.

                More good things—some call blessings—happened after arriving. The assistant, older, pretty, with thick, oatmeal-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail, nearly ran ahead of me on the way to a cubicle. I picked up my pace, not wanting her to think I was slow.

                During the ubiquitous x-rays when she asked me to bite down on what felt like the ham bone from Christmas, she talked about her job, how long she’d worked in dentistry, and where she lived. When I called her a youngster, she admitted she was seventy. We hit it off right away.

                After all the prelims were finished, the doctor rumbled in. I looked up into a handsome, hirsute face and stuck out my hand. He shook it, then got busy. Another, closer x-ray, a swab with an anesthetic laid against my gum, then the necessary shot—TWO shots, one on either side of the tooth.

                While that was working, Doc disappeared, and the nurse and I visited more. Her mother died at 92. “Mine died at 93.” She was one of seven children. “I hate to one-up you, but I am the oldest of eight.” On and on, just like we’d been friends for ages.

                Long story short(er), Doc re-entered and ground and ground and ground in my immobilized mouth until he got to the problem and fixed it. He even used a microscope! I guess they all do.

                I paid the piper, uh, the doctor, rode home in numbness and happiness, kissed my son goodbye, and lived happily ever after.

Will our next sisters' trip will be another "bucket list" item checked off?