Like the other American citizens whose heart and mind connection hasn’t been completely blown to bits yet, I was moved by Khizr Khan’s speech at this year’s Democratic National Convention. If your attention span lacks capacity to travel back a month in time, a refresher:
Mr. Kahn is an immigrant and Muslim. He is an attorney whose son was killed while serving in Iraq and Kahn contrasted his family’s loyalty to America with Trump’s lack of sacrifice. His big point? His son gave his life for this country and Trump would have never wanted him allowed here in the first place. He offered a pocket version of the Constitution to D. Trump in light of all of D. Trump’s hate-filled rhetoric.
It was pretty fantastic. Obviously, I’m no Trump fan—I’m fairly confident that if I voted for Trump, my uterus would leap from my body, slap me across the face, and run for Canada to see what Justin’s up to. She’d probably also enjoy some beer and start playing hockey.
Of course, Americans turned to consumerism as a reaction to Mr. Kahn’s speech and we started buying pocket-sized $1 versions of the Constitution.
The American Way: When feeling (insert any emotion), buy something or eat. You’ll totally feel better.
The funny part? After the DNC, we were buying an “Ultra-Right” version with fans like Ammon Bundy.
It’s funny. It’s not like people are doing a lot of investigating on emotional, dollar impulse buys on Amazon.
Is this by accident? Chance?
This has to be where someone un-ironically talks about the need to put prayer back in public schools.
Are they reading their Constitutions?
If you asked which amendment abolished slavery, guaranteed the right to have an abortion, or gave women the right to vote, would anyone have a clue?
Is it just an accessory?
The cynic in me thinks it was probably an impulse buy for the vast majority. Maybe it was thrown in a drawer or a backpack for some sort of future reference.
I’ve had a pocket-sized CATO Institute Declaration of Independence and Constitution for years. (I know, Koch, I know. Dear Left, Print up a good pocket-sized Constitution and pass it out over the holidays.)
Yes, I’ve thumbed through it and used it as a reference, but the reason I held on to it was the manner in which I acquired it.
It’s true, my narcissism runs so deep, I can make a story about an immigrant family’s sacrifice about myself.
Since my dating foibles are well-known, a first date is the obvious setting. I’d accepted the date out of curiosity, since this fella was a complete stranger. Since we had mutual friends, I was warned of eccentricities, but being a touch of a weirdo myself, that didn’t really scare me.
The plan was to have sushi, which may seem like a bit of a gamble in Middle America, but was surprising decent. Reasonable, easy conversation ensued, and although I wouldn’t say he was the type I was physically attracted to, I was enjoying the company.
Then he said, “I have something for you,” and handed me a tiny, dog-eared book.
Being a whore for books, I thought this was very sweet, although the “The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States of America” stamped in gold on the maroon cover did catch me off guard.
It was well-worn, with little water stains on the back, making me wonder whether he was studying up for some sort of court defense or if he was some right-wing nut determined stick it to the Feds.
This book had history.
Say something, idiot, I thought to myself, and blurted out, “So are you, like wanting to go to law school or something?”
“No,” he replied, “I stole this girl’s purse when I was back in (insert large Midwestern city) because I needed money for booze. But all that was in the purse was a copy of the Constitution.”
He felt bad because he thought she was probably studying for a citizenship test or something.
And yes, I wondered if it was all a made-up story just to see if I would bite, but people do stupid things when they are trying to get drunk or high, so I believed it to be sincere.
It’s worth pointing out that he was sober at the time of the date.
This book had history, macro and micro. Written laws! Guaranteed rights! Purse theft!
What a weird little book, wherever it started. Who knows where it might end? Old me find have thrown it in a fire to cancel out the evil from it being stolen. Drama! Me now catches a giggle when I see it and likes the reminder that I live in a country where, as a citizen, I have a binding agreement with my government that allows certain protections people in many parts of the world don’t get to enjoy.