For Whom Does the American Flag Fly?

I'm in no hurry to wave it, but don't tell me I don't love my country

YOU COULDN'T NOT NOTICE IT: A MULTITUDE gathered one morning at an A gate of Phoenix's Sky Harbor Airport, waving little American flags, recording on their cell phones, laying a soundtrack of exuberant cheers. Intrigued or just nosy, I stopped for a look-see, noticed that walls behind the gate desk were adorned with red-white-and-blue bunting, that other walls featured a slogan saluting all those who serve and their families, and that the area was also bedecked with flags: an American flag along with those representing the Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, Coast Guard, even the one for POW/MIA. Yonder, an agent stood at the mouth of the Jetway and called out the deplaning passengers as if announcing the Sun's playoff starters: "From the U.S. Air Force staff...!" "From the U.S. Navy...!" "Electronics technician first class...!" First-class petty officer...!" "USS Mission Bay rank third-class...!" Given their hoary hair, their wrinkled mugs, and the fact that some of them caned out of the jet bridge or were pushed in a wheelchair, I surmised that all who exited had earned the honorific of a veteran.

It heartened me to see that kind of appreciation for our veterans, so I dawdled past SO my first urge to leave, so much so that I joined in rounds of applause. Though my enthusiasm was sincere, truth be told, it was also tempered. Matter of fact, had somebody tried to hand me a little mini flag, I might've refused it and for damn sure would've been reluctant to wave it.

Why?

Well, because while I believe it commendable and crucial to honor the people who've risked or made the ultimate sacrifice for their/our country, my relationship to the flag is at best complicated, at worst ruined.