By DAN VALENTI

PLANET VALENTI News and Commentary

(FORTRESS OF SOLITUDE, MONDAY, JUNE 15, 2015) — On this Flag Day, THE PLANET‘s thoughts go back to the four years in the early 2000s that we were honored to deliver the keynote address at ceremonies at the National Archives.

Each year, we would gather our thoughts in long walks, tossing about ideas, until a theme emerged. One year, for example, we had just finished reading Flags of Our Fathers by James Bradley, in which the author told the story of the second flag-raising atop Mt. Suribachi, Iwo Jima, a hoist turned legendary by Joe Rosenthal‘s photo for the AP. It is the most famous photo of all time.

We never went in with notes, as is THE PLANET‘s preferred method of speechifying. Reading from a script, however good it’s done, locks one within the tight confines of pre-packaged paragraphs. We prefer serendipity surprise to emerge, as it invariably does when one “shirt-tails” a speech as opposed to “reading” a speech. The ensuing wonder is as much for the speaker as the audience.

The Baton Remains At Rest

THE PLANET still thinks of the flag on this day. We do so not with any form of syrupy faux-patriotism or bitter vitriol. We leave those two extremes to the zealots on both ends of the political baton. It spins sometimes expertly, sometimes poorly, depending on the hand that’s holding it. In our hands, the baton remains not still but at rest. There’s a difference.

What is a Flag?

What is a flag? Or does the question need the definite article: What is the flag?

It is:

* A piece of cloth, imprinted with a design and emboldened with color. In America’s case, the famous red, white, and blue.

* It is a symbol, but of what? It is directional, but to what does it point? It is emblematic, but riding upon what shirt?

Once upon a time, there existed a phenomenon called “The American Dream.” It promised the highest ideals of communal life for and upon which our elder brothers broke. They broke before their sprits felt the weight of an intolerable yoke (William Cullen Bryant, “The Greek Boy”). On second look and updated by 239 years, the promises seem cut not from living stone but petrified rock. A document cannot grant “Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” Only human acts of will can do that.

Life? Liberty? Pursuit of Happiness?

In 2015, we have Life. On that we can agree. Liberty? Like “success” and “failure,” liberty must be an individual vision for which you will have to answer yourself.  Pursuit of Happiness? That hot day’s “shady grove” might have been this country’s first “temple,” but the realistic eye sees that “happiness” cannot be sustained. Life presents oases of this wonderful state, but they come sparingly in the vast, trackless wastes. Ah, but what’s a journey for?

THE PLANET aligns with the Greeks here. They preferred “fulfillment” to “happiness.” It means to use one’s talents and abilities to their fullest measure along the lines of excellence. Thus, THE PLANET is “happy” at blessed times but “fulfilled” always.

As a symbol, the American Flag is an ink-blot test. It attains meaning with the emotional, intellectual, psychological, and spiritual investment citizens make in it not to it (we prefer individualism over idolatry). As a piece of cloth,the flag can be burned in the same casual manner as any other combustible object. As a icon, it deserves care and attention. As a token, the flag cannot be taken seriously because of nationalism. As an allegory, however, it rates the reverent attention we give to all great literature. The interpretations may differ, but the text retains an inherent, noble triumph.

‘They, too, Are Gone’

Each of us must find our own way to meaning. If the flag means nothing to you, that too is an investment. And so we are destined to watch as America’s beacon dims and those constitutional ideals fade to gray then black.

Now they are gone, gone as the sun’s setting blaze

Sinks in the west while night presses relentlessly on,

And with them the now-old tale of better days,

And trophies of remembered power — they, too are gone.

The Field that once gave us harvest, where the plow

Strikes the bleached-white bone, is all that tells our story now.

(THE PLANET‘s adaptation of Bryant’s “A Walk at Sunset,” verse 8).

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“There is much more to being a patriot and a citizen than reciting the “Pledge” or raising the flag.” — Jesse Ventura

“OPEN THE WINDOW, AUNT MILLIE.”

LOVE TO ALL.