How Ya Like Them Apples?

Well, you can’t please everyone, so you’ll just have to please yourself. Along the way, those who think like you get lucky.


Recently, I was disagreed with in one of my blogs, I offended someone by saying I would come to their state and fly a rebel flag.


Look, with all the dreary stuff going on these days, the worst thing you can think of is a rebel flag? I was born in Mississippi and lived there most of my life. The flag of this state incorporates the rebel flag. I was told that the rebel flag was not a laughing matter and that people in Arizona might not appreciate it. The rebel flag certainly is not a laughing matter. Nothing that means something to anyone is a laughing matter.


“Thousands of people lost their lives to fight what this flag stands for.”


I guess that’s true of many things. For each flag that flies above battling factions, one side is fighting for it, the other side is fighting against it. After the battles are long over and graves of the fallen are consumed by time and progress, later generations fly the flags of their fathers. Years have maybe altered definition and sentiment. Flags and other “symbols” mean different things to different people.


I can’t speak for everyone, of course. For me, the rebel flag means The South and that means Home. If I have a rebel flag bumper sticker on my car, as I have been known to do, I’m telling the world, “I am from the South and I am proud of it.” I wear a silver cross at all times; I’m telling the world “I believe in and love Jesus.” The day before Ash Wednesday, I am wearing green, gold and purple beads, I’m telling the world “I wish I was at Mardi Gras.” March 17th finds me flaunting green letting the world know I am Irish and I’m a pincher. Fourth of July, I’ve got an American Flag pin I like to wear, it says I’m an American and thank God for it. Around the end of October I like to wear whimsical Halloween geejaws. Christmas has its own set of jewelry I use to say “Merry Christmas” without opening my mouth. Sometimes I wear an Ernest P Worrell button, just cuz I wanna.



My inner Redneck, Myrtle May, would like to address the audience.


“Hey. Ah’ll fly whatever flags suits me ‘n them that don’t like it kin kiss mah fat ass.”


Thank you, Myrt.