Rock on!
Maybe you’ve heard the saying, “The winners write the history.”
Something like that.
OK then, in 1865 the northern states of the United States of America took the surrender of the Confederate States of America, which was located in the southern portion of North America, but not in Mexico.
They didn’t want to surrender, because the Southern states were on the verge of making a dramatic comeback. It ended the “Northern War of Aggression,” which started in 1861 when Southern militia men in South Carolina were forced to fire upon a fort belonging to the United States of America because, basically, they didn’t like the United States of America.
Okay, this is too complicated to make it simple.
Call it a “Northern” heritage thing.
No offense, right?
And I’m pretty sure I learned in a seventh-grade Illinois history class that the “North” won the “Civil War” against the “South.”
Illinois boys fought Alabama and Tennessee and Louisiana and South Carolina and North Carolina boys during the Civil War. But, that’s war for you, boys fighting boys for the most part, because old men think it is right and proper they should do so. So, that’s that.
No offense, right?
I had a friend in college who hung a rebel flag in his dorm room. “What the … ” I started to ask.
“My great-grandfather fought for the South in Missouri,” he said. “Or maybe, my great-uncle. Or cousin.”
“You know the South lost, right?” I asked.
He was from Iowa. Go figure.
I’m going to assume some things here, okay? Some people, quite a few probably, can trace their ancestry to someone who fought in the Civil War. Both sides. Which, I understand from some Tennessee friends of mine, the Civil War (as I call it) is also referred to as, “The War of Northern Aggression.” I’m sorry, but I spit out a mouthful of Sam Adams when I heard this one because I started to laugh. Sorry, sorry … My fault.
No offense, right?
“But it’s a cool-looking flag, isn’t it?” he asked.
I like the Stars and Stripes better.
Besides, the Stars and Bars wasn’t the only flag the South fought under. There was a white flag at one time — don’t ask me why — and the “Stars and Bars,” if I’m not mistaken, was the battle flag of Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia.
And I’m pretty sure Lee lost.
You can say “surrendered,” like it means something more than ... “Lost,” if it makes you feel better about yourself, but put a rose in a cow’s mouth and all you have is a cow — with a flower in its mouth.
I’m sure some self-taught historian will correct me with the “truth” learned from their Southern upbringing. No worries. Been there, done that.
No offense, right?
“Don’t let me stop you from displaying ‘your heritage,’” I said.
Or something like that. Honestly, I’ve never been impressed by the “Stars and Bars.” It’s a copy of the Stars and Stripes by somebody with no imagination, and, as it turned out, less sense.
I think what I actually said was, “Let’s go eat.”
Since then I’ve had time to think about that flag (which he took down after some female-type person laughed at it —at least I hope it was the flag).
I’ve often wondered, and I have wondered more recently, what does that flag represent actually?
As a romantic notion of a lost cause? “Though his bare feet ached in the falling snow he loaded his musket and swore he would kill him one more Yankee before their overwhelming numbers sent him to his grave.”
Or is it an idea of a gentleman planter preserving his way of life. Is it a “He was daring and brash and loved his horse and his mother and because he made a fortune from their work, he treated his slaves with kindness,” type of thing?
Or something more daring and dashing? “Oh, you rebel, you,” she said while she admired the Stars and Bars on his pickup truck? “You are one sexy man!” she squealed. “I’ll buy the beer!”
I think I’m getting a knack for this. Look for an historical novel next week. You know what? Keep your rebel flags. Keep your dreams of Southern “heroes.” Rock on!
It lets me know what kind of person you are.
No offense, right?
