The Flag Bandit

"We should get pizza today," my daughter said.

"Okay, I did say we would have pizza yesterday," I said as I recall changing our Good Friday meal at the last minute, going with honey walnut shrimp and fried rice instead.

We reached the car and backed down the driveway at a slope. Unconsciously I checked for our neighbor's cat, who sometimes sat in waiting as we moved about going to and fro.

"I hope you finish your driver's ed class soon. You could be driving us to get pizza instead of me," I said as I backed out of our driveway, thinking about my daughter working towards her driver's permit. 

She sat quietly and made a groan, fingers typing away on the phone she got a month before Christmas.

Now on level ground, I straightened the car and drove, turning onto a connecting street as we made our way out of our neighborhood. 

On the right, we passed Vincent Way, and I spotted something absolutely horrible. It was already one of the worst streets in our neighborhood. The homeowners seemed devoid of caring about curb appeal or maintaining their lawn, which said a lot since most of us use a desert landscape. Kids' toys are sometimes left in the yard unattended, and old furniture is sometimes left out days before the Garbage Collector is set to pick up trash. It's an unkempt street. I'm sure every neighborhood has at least one. But what I saw truly disturbed me more than their usual shenanigans.

"That's so disrespectful," I said as I continued driving, observing the house on the corner. It was parallel to the second-worst house on the street. In my opinion, it only surpassed the house in mediocrity because of the abomination I saw as I drove past. I continued making a left onto another street in our community, then making a right and the final left to take us out of the neighborhood onto the main road.

"They should take that tattered flag down. The American flag should wave proudly, not be on display tattered and falling apart." I imagine the flag once held pristine red, white, and blue colors. That the white stars looked distinguished. The blue started out as a rich hue, and the red and white stripes added the final glory of the flag I considered sacred. It is not sacred like a holy totem and not something to be idolized, but rather a powerful symbol representing our country and the men and women who gave their lives for it.

Instead, what I saw was faded glory. The distressed flag looked like it had been through war, it was so badly shredded. I didn't care about the state of their yard and whether or not their lawn ornaments were weathered. I only cared about the flag.

My daughter agreed as I continued driving and voicing my displeasure.

While serving in the military, I learned that the flag is a powerful image of our nation. A couple of rules about the flag were ingrained in my memory. One, the flag should not be tattered, torn, or otherwise damaged. If it is, replace it. Two, the flag should only be displayed at night with a light shining on it.

Now, I was further down the road, closer to our pizza destination; however, the appearance of that shredded flag still held my consciousness. What's the point of displaying a flag as American pride if it won't be displayed correctly? I thought to myself.

"I feel like I should go to their house in the middle of the night, climb up the flagpole and remove that tattered, disgraceful American flag and replace it with a new one," I fumed, getting angrier as I thought about it.

"That's wild," she said.

"I know! How could they be so disrespectful and leave the American flag torn and tattered on display like that?"

I peered over at her, and she gave me a look.

"Oh, so you meant it's crazy for me to climb their flagpole and replace the flag with a brand new flag?" I didn't see a problem with it. I tried to rationalize it in my mind. "Okay, so maybe they have a flagpole that can lower and lift the flag on a rope pulley system. I wouldn't have to climb it, then. I could just remove their old dirty and torn flag and replace it with a clean, beautiful American flag and throw their old flag away." I reasoned.

She continued looking at her phone. I continued driving, stopping at a red light in the left turning lane, and waiting for the green arrow.

As I said it, I thought I better Google 'how to dispose of an American flag properly'. I maneuvered through traffic, stopping at a four-way and going on my turn before driving into the parking lot of the pizza place. My daughter unbuckled herself and hopped out of the car to get the pizzas we ordered.

With the pizzas in hand, she quickly returned to the car, telling me about one of the employees who said hi to her. I promptly told her my newest thought after I carefully backed out of the parking lot and drove towards another store for her to get herself snacks.

"So instead of taking their old flag and throwing it away, I could leave it on their porch. Maybe it has sentimental value. Maybe the flag was flying at a time when their son or daughter died overseas, and it has sentimental value. I wouldn't want to throw it away. That would be awful."

Finally, I decided, "Okay, I know what I'll do." I parked the car at the store parking lot as she prepared to exit. "I'll buy a new flag, leave a note, and put it on the chair on their porch?" My eyebrows lifted, wondering if she would think it was a great idea.

"Ehh," she said noncommittally.

"You're right, I'll just leave the flag without the note. They'll know why it's there."

She smiled at me as she opened the car door, "Great idea." She shut the door behind her and walked to the store for snacks. Her sarcasm is over my head, and sometimes I can't tell if she agrees to end the conversation or if she agrees with my idea. If they don't like the gesture, it's the thought that counts.

One thing's for sure, I need to buy an American flag.