Minnewaska Musings

By Paul Gremmels 

A neighbor of mine stopped by the other day. I was outside, on the front lawn when he pulled up in his old pickup truck. As he got out he looked about and asked, “where’s your flagpole?”

   It was a legitimate question.

If you want to have a flagpole standing tall and proud, jutting straight into the clear blue sky, you have to begin by digging a hole into the deep, dark earth. I discovered this after deciding that my neighbor was right in his observation of my home lacking a flagpole. I live in the country, so finding a place for a flagpole was not a problem.

In fact, I was actually given a flagpole by my mother for Christmas many years ago. It is a twenty footer that came in four, five-foot sections. Regretfully, the box stood in the corner of my garage for several years and I failed to install it prior to my mother’s passing. I never seemed to have had the time to take on the project of installing it. Regrets are easy to list in the “should have” and “could of” columns in life.

So, I began by digging a two-foot by two- foot hole. A fitting task for the project, as it brought back memories of digging holes while I was in the Marine Corps. A great deal of dark, gallows humor in the Corps; over a long operation, spanning the course of several days, you and your fellow Marines would have to “dig in” every night. We would joke about how wonderful it was, having a job where you could dig your own grave at the end of every day. I thought of this while digging, and after completing the hole as specified in the directions, I stood back and nodded approvingly at my work. A simple pleasure, digging a hole.

I then mixed up a wheelbarrow full of cement and shoveled it in and around the short, hardened sleeve that the first five foot section of pole would slide into. Putting that first section in, I used a plumb-bob to make sure that the pole was straight. A little bit off at the base, would mean a lot off at the top. Interestingly enough, the plumb-bob dates back to the early Egyptians. As does the flagpole. I chuckled a bit, thinking that I was using a five-thousand year old instrument to help with the installation of a five-thousand year old implement. After the cement had set, I put up the remaining sections and hoisted the only flag I had, a 3×5 scarlet and gold Marine Corps flag. I have since purchased several different flags and while shopping for them, I can tell you, that anything you can think of – there’s a flag for it.

    

Sometimes, life can be overwhelmingly hectic and depressingly uncertain. Disagreements and clashes can leave us seething and exhausted. Losses can hollow us out with sadness and despair. So, bearing these things in mind, I called my neighbor who had inquired about me lacking a flag pole and invited him over. I brought out some lawn chairs and provided a couple of cool beverages. We then sat quietly together for a good long time and simply watched the flag, lufting in the light breeze.