Way
back a long time ago, when I was just a young lad and just starting to get a
handle on life, my brother-in-law Tommy told me something that has stayed with
me throughout the decades.
“Always
make sure you take the time to enjoy life. If there is a job to be done, work
as hard as you can to do it right. Just make sure than when the task is over
that you celebrate just as hard.
I moved down the stairs and through the
kitchen where I saw my mother slicing potatoes into a pan of hot grease. I
passed my brother, setting on the front step, gently strumming his guitar. My
sister pranced about the yard in make believe games. I reached out to touch her
shoulder. She shivered and quickly turned toward me.
“Can I play too”, I asked. But as she
opened her mouth to speak, the only sound that came out was of a man I did not
recognize.
“107 degrees,” it said. “I have no idea
how he is still alive.
There
have been more politicians than you can shake a stick at over the decades, including
our current president, that have used some version of this as their battle cry
to rally Americans. We all know that we want America to be great again, but
what is it that we’re really asking for? What will it take for America to be
great? Are we looking for low unemployment, high wages, stock markets on the
rise, low interest rates or low housing costs? I don’t think any of that makes
a difference. So just what is it that we’re after?
I
think that deep down we all have a longing for the nostalgia of something that
never really existed. That we’re looking for a place where Sherriff Taylor and
Barney weren’t just policemen walking a beat, but kind, trustworthy pillars of
the town who are able to keep all crime at bay without carrying a weapon. We
want Marcus Welby to make house calls and keep each of our ailments and secrets
to himself. We want him to hand us prescription drugs right out of his black
bag and take a watermelon as payment. We want little girls in pigtails saying ‘Goodnight
John Boy.” We’re looking for young lads that are willing to take out the trash
and mow the neighbor’s lawn for a homemade cookie and a glass of milk. We’re
looking for adults that help each other out through the tough times and throw bar-b-ques
to celebrate each other’s victories. We want to have our religion back. Where
we all go to church on Sunday and pray before each meal even in restaurants. We
want to see children kneel at the foot of their beds and thank God for another
day. We want to pledge allegiance to the
flag and have it mean more than just some words. We want drug stores to double
as soda shops and barber shops to be where the quartet practices. Yes, we want
hope, prosperity, kindness, honesty and freedom. But we don’t want to work for
them. We want someone to hand it to us on a silver platter.
So
there is always going to be a politicians telling us they will bring back ‘Main
Street’… that they can make a ‘Great America’. But none of them can ever
fulfill those promises.
Because
small towns and Main Streets are not places to visit, they are a way of life. They
are hidden inside each of us. So let’s search inside ourselves and pull them to
the surface. Only through our
action can we make America Great again.
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.