A Dallas area columnist recently wrote that we should all just shut up about patriotism because it’s a word that’s overused and “kinda uncool.” She went on to add that patriotism “is a kind of dusty holiday decoration that gets pulled out of the attic and displayed on the porch for the Fourth of July. It's a topic for kids' essay contests or the old codgers down at the VFW, not something you talk much about around the office.”

It is very sad to read this ungrateful commentary from someone too young and too spoiled to recognize how effete and impudent she sounds with her juvenile criticism of the sacrifices made by millions. A line from King Lear comes to mind: “How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.” Yet, I suppose it’s about what we can expect from a generation that has reached adulthood with an attitude that has been spoon-fed to them by liberal elitists who proudly put their hate-America slogans on parade.
 
These are the same people who wake up every day in a comfortable home and sit down to a healthy, robust breakfast before enjoying a refreshing shower and a selection of smartly tailored clothing. They slide behind the wheel of their late model, shiny automobile and head for the steady job that keeps their families well-fed and secure. During the evenings and weekends they gather with friends over cocktails and hors de oeuvres as they pontificate about the evils of the country that provides their affluent lifestyle.

They’ll smirk and sneer at those who salute the flag, preferring to view them as jingoists with an aggressive foreign policy mentality. In their rarified world of café latte and whole bran muffins, they could never appreciate the sacrifices made by those who subsisted on K-rations while sacrificing life and limb so their most ardent critics could enjoy the taste of freedom. Instead of applauding their liberators, they engage in accusatory discourse about the immorality of war. Of course, it’s easy to be philosophical on a full stomach.
 
Meanwhile, in most countries around the world, people dream of living in the United States. The reason for their fantasy is because they have been living with poverty and hopelessness since birth and have little opportunity to alter their circumstances. That is, unless they can find a way to emigrate to this land of opportunity. How many people are risking life and limb to sneak into China, Iran or Syria? How many U.S. citizens are stuffing themselves into trucks and vans and paying smugglers to drive them across the border to Mexico during temperatures exceeding a hundred degrees? One of the biggest problems this great nation has is trying to deal with the overwhelming number of people who are literally dying to get here. With that scenario as a backdrop, how in Heaven’s name can some people be so out of touch with reality that they would speak so contemptuously about love of country?
Those “old codgers” this columnist referred to with such disdain are the brave warriors who faced this country’s enemies on battlefields all over the world, so she and her family could rest peacefully every night in the secure bosom of a free country. Those “old codgers” watched their buddies die in front of them and honored their sacrifices, while this supercilious twit, who undoubtedly doesn’t have a clue about sacrifice, taps out a steady drumbeat of scorn on her keyboard, like a rebellious child blowing spitballs at the teacher.

Compare that attitude with millions of immigrants, many of whom, when arriving on American soil, get down on their knees and tearfully kiss the ground to show their gratitude. The difference between them and the snooty native born malcontents is that the latter has no frame of reference. It’s too bad they aren’t required to trade places with those who have experienced the paucity of hope and abundance of depression that drains the human spirit and makes zombies out of its inhabitants.

Maybe if they spent a few years trying to claw their way back to the country they were so quick to denigrate, they too would find themselves on bended knee with lips puckered. Moreover, the next time they saw the uniform of our military, or walked by a VFW hall, they might just feel an uncontrollable urge to raise the right hand sharply, with fingers and thumb extended to the right of their right eye and snap out a respectful salute. Yes, it’s called patriotism, and thank God that most of us still believe in it!

Bob Weir is a former detective sergeant in the New York City Police Department. He is the executive editor of The News Connection in Highland Village, Texas.  Email Bob.