Every year my wife asks me, "are you going to post your vanity about the Declaration of Independence again this year?" Her question is really rhetorical, she knows I intend to post it because it has become a tradition in the family much like whether you open your Christmas presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. A family tradition like what your family has for Christmas dinner, turkey or ham? Or, do you display the flag on Memorial Day?
For us, living as we do here in Germany, it is our way of holding fast to our America. So every year we keep the tradition and we look forward to the reactions of FReepers which have been consistently gratifying and even heartwarming.
Incidentally, the boy in the vanity is now taller than I am and will finish school here next year and then will hopefully follow his older brother who leaves for America and college in a few weeks.
Our family here in Germany wishes all of you at home a joyful Fourth of July.
I hope that at some point in Germany, you follow in the footsteps of H.L. Mencken in the proud American tradition of telling Germans some real whoppers of tall tales about life in America.
In his case, he told of being invited on a hunt in Florida, in which alligators on leashes were used in place of hunting dogs.
Others, following in his footsteps, have told them of logrolling California giant redwoods, geyser rides at Yellowstone, seeing winds of the Midwest blowing large cast-iron cooking pots like tumbleweeds, and lots of tales of the Old West, gunslingers, cowboys and Indians.
This is especially good when you use either a deep southern or western accent, which sounds pleasing to Germans trained in “continental English.”
One amusing incident was of a US Army soldier stationed in Stuttgart, who was wearing western blue jeans, boots, and cowboy hat while talking with some German students who were friends of his in a bar.
One of the Germans groaned on seeing their table approached by a wildly punk girl who he knew despised America and Americans. When she arrived, without even an introduction, she launched into a litany of insults against the American, blaming America for everything that was wrong in the world and in a sneering and contemptuous manner.
He just sat there, quietly looking at her, until she finally demanded that he speak. He paused, looking at this weirdo in front of him, in her gaudy punk outfit and hair, then paused again before finally saying:
“Yew know, whar I come from, we shoot people look like yew.”
The Germans at the table about injured themselves laughing so hard, and the punk girl flushed, then stomped off in great humiliation, which made it even funnier.