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Yes. These flags were erected on the newly-claimed Protest Warrior corner. We saw them as we drove up. What a sight!

Thanks for sticking around to see the 1000 post record.

I hope to see you all up there soon...but maybe not till June.

As they drove up, I was standing on the wrong corner.
BMW and AB looked at me kinda strange, then smiled.
Then I hollered "These people have no idea who they are dealing with."

"Yes. These flags were erected on the newly-claimed Protest Warrior corner. We saw them as we drove up. What a sight!"

Good God, that must have been something to see.

My Name Is Old Glory

I am the flag of the
United States of America.

I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I stand side by side with the Maple Leaf on the worlds longest undefended border.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.

I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.

When I am flown with my fellow banners,
my head is a little higher,
my colors a little truer.

I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am honored - I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected -- and I am feared.

I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy, Guam. Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon Vietnam.
Know me,
I was there.

I led my troops, I was dirty, battle worn and tired,
but my soldiers cheered me, And I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free. It does not hurt,
for I am invincible.

I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled on the streets of my country. And when it's by those whom I've served in battle -- it hurts.
But I shall overcome -- for I am strong.

I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness to all
of America's finest hours.

But my finest hours are yet to come.
When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,
I am proud.

MY NAME IS OLD GLORY LONG MAY I WAVE.

Author © Howard Schnauber