Here’s what I think: There was a time when respecting the flag meant something. I guess I’m not as up to date as all of you. I’m glad, cause when I see the Stars and Stripes I think about the men at Missionary Ridge, Resaca de la Palma, and San Juan Hill; I think about Belleau Wood and Nicaragua; I think about my father at Guadalcanal, Tarawa, Iwo and Okinawa; I think about Chosin, Quang Tri, and Beiruit; I think about Baghdad and Kandahar; I think about every drop of patriots’ blood shed for an ideal. And I think that every person who wants to apologize for the scum-sucking piece of shit who wants to take the banner that represents the blood and sacrifice of generations and drape it over him like a rag so he can dance around and sing and pretend that makes him patriotic need to reexamine their own hearts. That’s what I think.
thanks for sharing. :)