In 1964, we were living in Pasadena, CA, while my husband was attending grad school. A college friend came out to see the University of Michigan play in the Rose Bowl. We had bleacher seats along the route of the Rose Parade. The parade began with a cavalcade of palomino horses, each rider carrying a large American flag. Everyone seated in the bleachers began standing up, whereupon a crabby guy started yelling, "Down in front! Down in front!"
Another crabby guy yelled back, "Stand up, Buster! Them's the American flags!"
Thursday morning at work I was waiting for a bus at the entrance near the flagpole, when the speakers began to play those first few notes that announce reveille. "Uh-oh," I said to the fellow on the bench beside me. "What?" he said, eyeing me skeptically as I stood. 'We're supposed to stand and put our hands on our hearts to honor the flag," I said, doing so as the last notes sounded. He looked at me in the darkness like I was the worst kind of kook.
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