Why I Cry On The 4th of July

I’m not sure if I will be able to complete this post because it’s such an emotional day for me. In fact, I’m going to try to keep this as short as possible.

Nearly everyone looks forward to the Fourth of July. Well, everyone in America that is. The holiday is one of the most anticipated celebrations of the year, and there are those who plan well in advance. Flights are booked, hotels reserved, and for those who stay home – it’s cookouts galore! The night is capped with masterful displays of fireworks in almost every metropolis throughout the nation. For the life of me I can never understand what all the hoopla is about. Why is everyone so jubilant?

Celebrate? No, no…not I! I do not partake in the merriment of Independence Day. A different emotion is triggered inside of my chest cavity. The pang that strikes me is indescribable.

The way I see it, the Fourth of July has a different meaning. It’s the word Independence that gets me teary-eyed. My how foolish are the youth, for they know not the ways of the world. I wake up on the fourth day of the seventh month, and I can’t help but shake my head. A sense of loneliness washes over me, and I wipe away the tears.

Why are we not home? What were they thinking? (No, it’s not what you’re thinking. The reason I cry on Independence Day is not because I have a former girlfriend, who was my fourth, named Julie. That’s just silly.)

There hasn’t been an Independence Day in which I fail to remember Chapter 15 in the book of Luke in the New Testament. You know what I’m talking about – The Parable of the Lost Son, more commonly referred to as the Prodigal Son. Young America was given all of the support that it’s little heart desired. Then all of a sudden, in 1776, America decided that it was grown. No longer did the new country want to be under the watchful eye of wise-old Great Britain.

America knew all that was needed to know and was ready to venture out on it’s own. Big mistake! Here we are, a measly 235 years removed, and America is lost. Oil is almost four dollars a gallon. The National Debt is reaching the stratosphere, the USD is only worth 60 pence, and there is no hope in sight. Independence turned out to be a sour-sugarless lemonade, not the sweet-godly ambrosia that the forefather’s thought it would be. If only we could go back and do it all over again.

Nowhere to turn now but home. With tears in our collective eyes, Americans should suck up our pride, swim across “The Pond,” and crawl on our knees – begging Her Majesty to take us back. Will she welcome us with the open arms of the father in the Biblical parable? She need not. We don’t desire a warm homecoming, we just want to rest under her plentiful bosom once more. Lucky is the generation who has a President wise enough to be the Prodigal Son. Hopeful was I, when Obama spoke of CHANGE. Oh to be a Briton again. I desperately weep to return…accent and all!

But why would you want to go back home, you ask? There is no Fourth of July in England, you say? Yes, my good man! Indeed there is, I respond…it’s between the 3rd and the 5th of July.

@PeteTeix617

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5 responses to “Why I Cry On The 4th of July

  1. Suggestion: go in your closet and find the closest attire u have that resembles something out of the 1700s, I’m sure you have something, I’ve often questioned if ur wardrobe choices were of this century. Next consume an entire bottle of tequila followed by a bottle of vodka. Go to fan hall and be as belligerent as possible when you do this, shout to anyone that will listen: Long Live England!! Disregard the angry mob that forms around you and strip down to your boxers/briefs/panties, whatever ur into @ the moment and yell for all of those silly patriots to hear: Give Me Slavery Or Give Me Death!! Important note, make sure to bring along w/u a trusted friend or family member to document your “bravery” that way when on July 5th were wondering why no blog post, the answer will be clear! HAPPY 4th!

    • First, let me address the comment about undergarments. I WEAR BOXER-BRIEFS!
      If I drank the liquor you suggested, the only place I would be going is my bed. As far as the attire, I think the trend will come back.

  2. you do know this old great britain that you talking about is worse off than the USA. besides it rains so much over there that I’m going ride this down spiral of our country to the ground, with my hand over my heart and saying ‘the pledge of allegiance’
    ” god bless america and no one else”

  3. Pingback: No Thanks | Wacky Pete's Wicked & Wonderful Words of Wis-dumb

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