What America Means to Me

When I drive to work I usually listen to Bob Lonsberry on the radio. It gives me a chance to hear some of what is going on in the world, and I usually agree with his views. It also helps me know how fast I need to drive: if I hear too much of the news, I know I will be really late for work. But this morning while I ate breakfast I read something that made me change my morning routine a little. It was an article in the Ensign that talked about how we let our busy lives keep us from concentrating, pondering, and nourishing our spiritual selves.

I decided to use my drive to ponder, and as I sat in my car pondering on what to ponder, I saw an American flag, and I thought to myself, if someone asked me what being an American meant to me, what would I say? Or to put it another way, what kind of patriot am I?

To me, being an American is less about the land and more about the company I keep as an American. I don't mean only my family and friends, but people I never have and never will meet as well. People from California to Florida; people far away in Alaska or Hawai'i; people all over the world who call America home. When I think about America, I think about people working together to make their lives better. I think particularly about families struggling to make it in a tough world. I think about small-town celebrations where everyone gets together to have fun and to celebrate being free. I think about the soldiers across the world who protect our freedoms. I think about the working men and women who keep the economy turning, who keep America rolling forward. I think about the stay-at-home mothers and fathers who nurture and teach millions of wonderful children who will be the future of America.

Living in Utah and being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints adds a little more to my view of freedom. In a way, we have two days of Independence in July: the fourth and the twenty-fourth. The twenty-fourth marks the anniversary of when the Mormon Pioneers entered the Salt Lake valley after an exodus fraught with persecution, hardship beyond my conception, and death. When they reached the valley, that exercise of freedom had really just begun. I have heard so many stories about how the people worked together to turn the desert into a place to live and to thrive. I think about the Mormon Battalion, called to serve their country even after the government of that country had failed to provide those promised rights of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I think about Captain Moroni and the Title of Liberty: "In memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children." That is the spirit of America.

The American Dream is not having a house or fancy car like so many commercials today claim. It isn't having a large property or a big boat. The American Dream is achieving those things. The American Dream is the opportunity that we have for success. It is having the freedom to work to honestly earn those things that make us better, and then using them to continue in achieving new goals. It is becoming self-sufficient. It is progress.

On the American flag I see fifty bright stars of hope on a field of blue, placed on a foundation of red and white, the integrity and courage of all those who have fought for our freedom and those who continue to protect and enliven that freedom, at war and at home. I am proud to be an American because I am proud to stand among the people in this country who are courageous yet humble, who are earnestly striving to achieve more yet are completely grateful for what they have, and who are indefatigable but who also have time for fun with family and friends.

Family - A Reason to Blog

With a crescendo of music and magic, the dragon exploded with a flash, sending sparks cascading into the air and a spray of glistening water droplets toward the sky. The lights dimmed, and the music quieted. Twinkling harp runs and flute trills ran up and down. Lights sparkled as a fairy flitted back and forth above the water, here, then there. A change in the music as it started to build, and then a flare of strings as they started playing the main theme. The music continued to intensify until out on the Rivers of America, with a crash of light and sound, Mickey appeared at the helm of the Mark Twain, accompanied by pin-wheeling fireworks, dozens of dancing Disney characters, and jets of water and arcing fireballs synchronized to a delightful score of music. The Rivers burst into flame, the sky lit up with thrilling, sparkling pyrotechnic energy.
And Mary went wild.
Have you ever watched Disneyland's Fantasmic with a five-year-old, princess-loving, imagination-driven little girl? Mary, our oldest, just lost it. She went crazy, swinging her arms around, bouncing, yelling "whoooo hoo!" and "yay!" and waving with both hands. Her whole body trembled with excitement in my arms. Her face was lit up, and she was more excited than I have ever seen her. It was a wonderful experience for a parent, and it was magical for both of us - for me because I love to see her be happy.
And besides, Fantasmic is wonderful - really fantastically orchestrated. And truth be told, Mary is perhaps a little more like me than I would like to admit. I remember times when I was younger (OK, so maybe it was less than a month ago before our family vacation to Disneyland) where I would jump, cheer or shake with excitement over some upcoming fun occasion. Sometimes, after a rough week at work, I still do that on Friday afternoon in my car as I drive home, just because it is the weekend.
Anyhow, I don't want to make my entry too long, but we did all have a very fun time at Disneyland and the beach. We went to Huntington Beach. Ann had never been to the ocean or to Disneyland. It delighted me to see her reaction to both. She was shocked by the immense size of the ocean. She had been expecting something like Lake Lahontan in Nevada. We went on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride first at Disneyland (a tradition of my parents - we went to Disneyland with my whole family) and then to the Haunted Mansion, and to put it mildly, Mary found those two rides decidedly unfavorable. She screamed like she was dying when the elevator doors closed in the Mansion. That initial impression for Mary didn't please Ann, but then we went off with just our small family, and after several children's rides, Ann was starting to have fun. Then she went on Space Mountain (we had to take turns on some rides, having four small children) and she was addicted. She loved it. She got teary-eyed when we left Disneyland on our last day. We both were really down as we drove back across the border into Utah. It isn't that often that we get to spend so much time for so long together as a family, and it was great.
Disneyland is awesome, and it really is magical, especially when you go as a family. I love it even more now as an adult than I did as a child. But what really made it that way was family.