Old Glory, Tweets, Texts and the Little Red Hen

My wife and I were in Washington D.C. last week.

One day we went to the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History which contains everything from George Washington's camp kit to Julia Child's kitchen to an exhibition detailing the history of the Civil Rights Movement to a collection of dresses worn by First Ladies. (If Hillary wins in 2016, will Bill donate the suit he'll wear to her inaugural ball?)

Three things were of particular interest:

The Star Spangled Banner: I always assumed the flag Francis Scott Key saw waving over Ft. McHenry the morning after that perilous battle with the Brits was the size of the ones you see flying over the post office and other public buildings.

Nope. It was 30 x 34 feet and is displayed in a special climate- and light-controlled room. It is – an overused but appropriate word in this case – awesome. Goosebump City.

Texts and Tweets:  There were a number of school groups visiting the museum – mostly junior high and high school students. They were surrounded by the very best of American history and all they had to do was look at it, not memorize it or take a test about it. What were half of them doing? Starring at their cell phones, looking for tweets and texts from their friends, then writing back. There ought to be a law that anyone under 21 can’t have one of the damned things. The consequences to our culture are going to be severe. I won’t be around to see it but for those who are coming of age now, the future is going to be like living in Dumb and Dumber.

Golden Books: There was a special exhibit of the Little Golden Books on which millions of my fellow Boomers and I were raised. Many of the books imparted messages to young readers about ethics, morals and other character traits. I was pleased to see my favorite, The Little Red Hen.

The story in a nutshell: A little red hen finds some grains of wheat and asks her animal buddies to help her plant it. “Not I,” they say one after another. So she does it herself. When it’s time to harvest the wheat, she again asks for help. “Not I,” they reply. She harvests it alone. They say “no” when she requests assistance milling the wheat into flour and again when she asks for help making bread. But they all eagerly volunteer to eat the bread once she takes it out of the oven. She tells them to kiss her Little Red Ass. 

It’s the perfect allegory to run across in Washington, D.C.

Nobody in Congress or the Administration is willing to work with anyone else toward what is good for America because they’re all too busy indulging in their own interests. And everyone wants something for nothing.

I’d write my Congressman and suggest he use The Little Red Hen as the basis of a speech or press release but he’s in rehab after his cocaine bust and has announced he isn't taking messages.

Don't think they published a Little Golden Book covering that particular situation but I may be wrong.