I Really Can't Remember a Time I Believed in god

 

I was raised in a boring and traditional, upper-class family in the tony River Oaks subdivision of Houston. We were members of the exclusive River Oaks Country Club, in fact, my Dad was president from time to time. This befitted a partner at one of Houston's and the nation's most prestigious law firms, Vincent and Elkins. 

I went to River Oaks Elementary School, a public school in its founding, but as exclusive (and white) as any of the private schools, including Kinkaid, the one my older sister attended. (Some years after such notable alumni as George W. Bush and Jeb, along with best buddy James Baker.)

I rode my bike or walked to River Oaks each day, often stopping by one of the big houses to see if they had, by any chance, left the door to their bomb shelter open. I really wanted to see in one of those things. I thought about them every Friday at noon when the siren went off and all students knelt under their desks with one hand placed over the back of our neck.

In case you're wondering, the hand was to protect our neck from the ravages of a nuclear bomb. 

I don't remember any prayer in school. The pledge had only been embraced by Congress a decade before, and President Eisenhower had only added the words, "under God," during my lifetime. 

My 10-year-old's self may not have had the philosophical depth to ask the question I'd to ask Ike today, but I think he had the same general feeling. 

The question, of course, is, "Whose god?" 

I mean, Ike was an insatiable golfer; was he on the back nine challenging members of his foursome to recite the Pledge, and it just came to him? "Hey, I think I'll add a couple of words. How do you like, 'under god?'"

I doubt any of those playing asked, "Whose god?"

Same with the Flag

It really bothers me when someone wraps some personal cause or belief in the American flag. The poor flag can't even speak for itself! It just has to stand there and take it if the person in front of it is spewing hatred, racism, mysogomy, or some other warped personal belief. Yet watching this person from the audience, the uneducated alien (the green type) who had just landed from a distant planet would think, "Oh, that flag stands for that!" 

When someone wants me to salute or otherwise honor the American flag as they see it, I simply refuse. I don't know enough about them and how they see it. Like everyone else, they have taken the flag that means a million things to a million different people, and tried to make it stand only for their beliefs. 

Just like I refuse to pray. 

This is not entirely true. Just a few months ago I was invited to a Super Bowl-watching party at my immediate neighbor's house. I had never been there before, nor met his extended family. I was having a perfectly pleasant time when the wife announced that food was about to be served. 

At which point, everyone stood and bowed their heads as the head of the household, my neigbor said in a muted tone, "Dear Lord..."

Even though I didn't know who's "lord," of course I bolted to my feet, removed my cap and stood quietly throughout the repair. That has nothing related to a philosophy; that has to do with being a decent human being and respecting someone else's house.

A few minutes later, the National Anthem began on the TV. Again, everyone was standing with hands over their hearts. 

I had never seen this before, but I resisted the temptation to say, "Oh, c'mon man!" I stood and placed my hat over my heart. I did not, however, sing.

A man has to draw the line somewhere.