Patriotism

Although I spend a lot of time in Palm Springs I was unaware it was such a patriotic town.  After having lunch with my parents, strolling through a gallery, and buying milk and eggs at Ralph's we came across barriers on the main street.  The sidewalk was lined with locals waving flags in anticipation of  the Veterans' Day Parade.  I willingly put my afternoon hike on hold as we perched against a concrete wall, faces warmed by the fading sun.  Within minutes we heard the the drum line from the local high school marching band.  Overhead vintage military planes housed at the air museum soared across the blue sky.   Proud marines, JROTC,  and vets from WW II filed across the pavement, clicking their hells in unison.  The crowed cheered for a 100 year old war hero, decorated with two purple hearts, as he waved from the back of a pristine, vintage Sedan de Ville.  The vets from Vietnam wore uniforms of leather and red, white and blue bandanas as they ripped their Harleys down the street.  I thought about the recent election and the polarizing tide that is ripping our nation apart.  I thought about the troops in Iraq and Afghanistan fighting futile wars.  I thought about our government struggling under the weight of bipartisanship and the gridlock in Congress.  And yet I was overcome with patriotic pride.  Tears pooled in my eyes several times during the parade, my throat tight with emotion.  The procession ended with a fireworks display.  The colors of our flag burst across the sky and I felt an overwhelming sense of hope.