Life is Hard. Wear a Helmet.

Life is Hard. Wear a Helmet

Virginia State Constitution: Article 1; Section 13
That a well regulated militia, composed of the body of the people, trained to arms, is the proper, natural, and safe defense of a free state, therefore, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed; that standing armies, in time of peace, should be avoided as dangerous to liberty; and that in all cases the military should be under strict subordination to, and governed by, the civil power.

Alabama State Constitution: Article 1: Section 26
That every Citizen has a right to bear arms in defense of himself and the State.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

March 3rd, 1931

No "Saturday morning coffee" this morning. That's not to say I didn't have coffee, coffee is the elixir of life.
It's a working weekend, and I need to get on the road.
On September 14, 1814, Francis Scott Key got screwed royally by the British troops that were attacking our country. (go figure)

He went to get a buddy of his released from captivity, and ended up getting his ass "detained indefinitely" (why does that sound so familiar?)

Anyway, he ended up stuck on a British ship while they pounded the ever-loving shit out of Fort McHenry, near Baltinore Maryland.

So he's stuck on this ship and he's, like, "Yo! This totally sucks that I'm stuck here with these British rump-rangers while they throw a bunch of exploding shit at my homies!"

It wasn't all bad though, because he noticed after a while that this sorry bunch of deranged sodomites weren't bringin' the pain like they thought they were, and he said to himself "My homies REPRESENT, Beyotches! They flyin' their COLORS!"

He got so excited about that shit that he decided to write a poem. (Okay. They didn't have the shit back then that we have nowadays. If that shit happened now, my boy would have filmed it with his iPhone and had it on YouTube before the sun came up.....poetry was how bad motherfuckers rolled back in those days.)

So he writes this badass poem, but it wasn't until years later that someone actually put the words to music. They used the tune from a popular Enlish song called "To Anacreon in Heaven" (What the fuck is up with that? Hopefully we chose that song just to insult the shit out of the Brits.)

Through the rest of that century, and into the next one, all of the U.S. Armed Forces and most of the citizenry considered that song to be our national anthem. Finally, in 1916, Woodrow Wilson signed an executive order to that effect.

But it wasn't until this date, in 1931, that our Congress passed an act designating this song as our Official National Anthem, and had it signed into law by president Herbert Hoover.

(Imagine that...our government taking over 100 years to catch up to what the rest of the country already knows...this is me being surprised.)

The military marching bands with bass drums and cymbals are all well and good, but I happen to think our anthem sounds best sung by regular folks; with love in their hearts and strength in their souls.


Robert Fowler said...

That was awesome. By the time she got to the end my goosebumps had goosebumps.

Old NFO said...

She done good! :-)

CTone said...

"poetry was how bad motherfuckers rolled back in those days"

HAHAHA!!! Reminds me of this cartoon -

Bad motherfucker indeed!

Broken Andy said...

Good post. This is how it's done, bitches!

FrankC said...

Very nice RF, but if she could sing the tune and not a Whitney impersonation, that will really get the goosebumps raised.

MSgt B said...

Thanks everyone for stopping by.

KurtP said...

Kinda dusty in here....