Some journal entries are thoughts of the moment. Others are things that have been mulling around in my head for while.
This one's been rolling about for a few days.
When I first went to the US, I was 15, and somewhat nonplussed by the fact there wherever I went there were US flags fluttering. On flagpoles in towns, on stores, on people's houses, even on cars. I just thought it was "one of the things They do that We don't"
I went several times in my 20s, and this time found it all a bit nauseous. Land of the free, and all that. I felt pretty proud of my cynicism. All that flag waving - pah.
I was last in the US earlier this year and this time I felt a bit different. Perhaps envious. In spite of everything, many Americans are intensely proud of their country. I chatted to a friend who'd been involved in war protests:
"Why keep waving the flag?" I asked, "I thought you hated what was going on"
He looked at me, nonplussed, and said "Yeah, of course I don't like the policies and going to war on a lie, but I love my country. Don't you?"
And I knew he was right. I love being English. I wouldn't want it any other way.
So this week cars, houses and pubs are festooned with the English flag. Its because the national football team are off in Portugal, kicking a ball around a field.
But wouldn't it be great to keep that national pride going even after the game is over?
And no, there's no flag on my bike at present. Too much drag. Ahem.
