After I wrote a recent note about AE - George Russell, I thought that the ideas presented fit with an incident from my recent walk. See what you think after I relate the story.
It was towards the end of another walking day when THE moment occurred, but I will build up to that time. I had parked my body the night before not far from the highway and began to walk toward Idaho Falls in the early morning. The previous day, I had met a newspaper reporter for the Idaho Falls in the Mayor's office for Rexburg. I thought I had an interview set up. So when a friendly driver invited me to ride a few miles with her to Idaho Falls, I decided it was okay to take a morning ride into town.
Well, the reporter was away from the Post Register office and the receptionist didn't know when he would return. So, I left a message and my cellphone number.
My stop was hardly a total loss because I saw a sign in the newspaper office announcing a visit by King Tut to the Museum of Idaho in Idaho Falls. The young potentate was in town and awaiting company. I found my way to the museum and spent an hour perusing artifacts (reproductions) from his ancient tomb. I talked with a few of the docents and took some photos. It was okay to do so without a flash. Egypt and Tibet are the only two foreign spots that have ever caused me to consider distant travel. I haven't made it to either country yet. Maybe next lifetime.
I continued on with a stop at Scoresby Farm's fruit stand run by two young college students, Malcolm and Quescen. I wished then that I could carry lots of fresh fruit, but settled for eating some for lunch and carrying dried stuff in my backpack.
I stopped at a park on the edge of town for a rest some time thereafter and found myself tailed by a young man from the newspaper. I got my interview after all and by a much more congenial reporter. Pat Sutphin, an intern from Chicago, took my story and some photos. I returned the latter favor.
Then, I tramped some more. I was even farther from downtown when I passed through a busy intersection with my flag flying. A young man in his late 20s yelled and motioned to me to come for a visit while he idled hid car at the intersection. With youngsters in the back seat, he asked, "What is the flag for? What are you doing?"
I said, "I'm trying to remind people that we have a good country but we can make it better. If we all do a little bit more for our neighbors, community and country, it will make a huge difference."
The young fellow didn't miss a beat, "I can tell you how I'm going to make a difference."
"How is that?"
"I'm voting for Mitt Romney."
You might expect that that wasn't the answer I expected.
"Romney can't do everything. We all must do our parts. I want YOU to do something."
The conversation was brief and the light was changing.
I wished him well and continued down the road.
Certainly, Romney can't nor couldn't do everything, especially since he was defeated.
Nor can Obama, nor Congress, nor any institution.
I do believe that JFK had it right when he said, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but ask instead what you can do for your country."
After we ask, all we need is a little imagination, some fortitude, and a dose of elbow grease. Can't we revive some of that some of that 60s spirit in the 10s?
I am waiting to hear about some good old-fashioned American Imagination. Last time when I wrote about the AE the Irishman and imagination, I got two notes from Scotland. Maybe the Scots still have imagination. I am wondering about Americans.
A Toast to More Imagination Everywhere.