ash dashed this office as the news was current. It provided the ideal opportunity to relay one of those priceless true stories she keeps on mental file.
Woopty-do. According to our paper, the anti-flag burning amendment has received enough votes in the House of Representatives to be sent to the Senate.
This marks the I-forgot-how-manyth time the proposal has succeeded through stage one only to fail, if not at stage two, then ultimately at the state ratification level.
The latest chapter in this continuing saga reminds me of an experience some years ago when I came across a pickup truck in a parking lot. Its bumper sticker, paraphrased for a family newspaper, read, “Burn my flag, I’ll burn your, er, rump.” On impulse, I grabbed a scrap of paper and pen from my glove compartment, scribbled a message, and affixed it to the windshield of the other vehicle.
Again modified for family consumption, it read, “If I burn my own flag, will you burn your own rump?”
While the statute of limitations on defacing private property in regard to this misdemeanor surely has expired, I state for the record I’m not proud of myself. But I also find the sentiments expressed on both the original bumper sticker and the contorted joke I made of it no less absurd than the amendment itself.
What it boils down to is this: the flag which symbolizes the freedom to burn the flag, among other liberties, is now off limits. Which is why I call it the Ultimate Exercise in Irony Bill.
There is one upside to this amendment. If it passes, its defenders will no longer be able to argue, “Soldiers died for your right to burn the flag.”