Independence Day 2015
by Albo P Fossa ✍ June 25th, 2015
I remember the vague trepidation. The Doc pulled a little lump from my throat and said, “Yep, cancer.”
All summer of 2010, I was nuked and polluted for thyroid-involved HPV. Five years later, on June 23, the Doc stuck a rubber hose up my nose and with his scope prononounced me cured. We did the happy dance.
He said I should never darken his door again. I can live with that.
Just in time for Independence Day.
Recently, “rebel” has become a dirty word in some circles. It is to be noted, though, that our country was founded by “rebels”. As stated in Wikipedia,
Patriots (also known as Rebels, Revolutionaries, Continentals, or American Whigs) were those colonists of the Thirteen Colonies who violently rebelled against British control during the American Revolution and in July 1776 declared the United States of America an independent nation. To become independent, we rebelled.
I can imagine the vague trepidation. Affixing a name for all to see, on that Declaration. With the certainty that to carry through meant starting all over. From scratch. To have and hope for the old guard to say, “Never darken my door again.” Were they sure they could live with that?
It turns out we did, in the long run. Cured of the cancer of an unjust and throttling dependence. Though it may seem the words “patriot” and “rebel” have achieved some seniority.
As have I.
I wonder whether the Declaration signers did the happy dance.