Monthly Archives: June 2013

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How to display a U.S. flag

Today is the start of National Flag Week, and I just discovered I’ve been wrong about how to display the U.S. flag.

I was a mission today, to find a flag bigger than the child-sized handheld ones you see along parade routes, but small enough that I could attached it to the railing of my balcony and let it fly. As I drove from store to store, I kept hearing the same news story — how to properly dispose of an unwanted or damaged flag. For the record, the flag is apparently meant to be cut, and then burned, according to certain ceremonial procedures. I came away with the impression that it’s best in these circumstances to just contact the Boy Scouts — they know what to do.

However, the reporter never mentioned the correct way to display the flag, and I kept catching snippets of people’s conversations in the stores, with comments ranging from whether the flag could be flown at night to how best to combine it with another country’s flag.

So I came home and did some snooping on the Internet. And found that my understanding of how to display the flag in certain situtaions was completely incorrect.

The flag should be illuminated when flown at night.

I think most people know this one. It was also the subject of a very funny conversation overheard at a Home Depot.

A couple was looking at various types of solar lights. I assumed they wanted them to light up their patio or walkway, but they kept arguing about how much light they needed and how high up the lights would shine. Then I heard the woman tell her husband “I told you that pole was too tall!” Seems he got a little ambitious with the height of their flagpole; none of the lights stocked at the store would shine high enough to illuminate the flag.

Drive in the Philadelphia suburbs and you’ll see a lot of places with flags flying in the night. Not just police and fire departments, township offices and schools, but apartment complexes, churches and many private homes. I pass a very patriotic house on my drive back from work — not only does the homeowner have what looks to be at least six floodlights shining on the large flag before his house, he’s also wound red-white-and-blue rope lights around the flagpole for added emphasis!

The flag should not be flown in inclement weather.

I was wrong about this one, but frankly, this rule makes no sense to me.

The rule says the flag should not be subjected to weather damage, and so only weatherproofed flags should be flown in bad weather. But think about it for a minute. The Star-Spangled Banner, our national anthem, celebrates our flag’s ability to continue flying throughout a night filled with a massive British artillery bombardment. Come on, what’s a little rain or snow compared with the fire, smoke and shrapnel generated by cannon shells? Yet, the rule says we should remove our flags in the face of inclement weather unless they are weatherproofed.

People do take down their flags, but usually only when a hurricane is approaching, along with removing anything else that could become an airborne projectile in high winds. It’s a sensible precaution — when I lived in Massachusetts, a flag pole snapped in high wind during a nor’easter and ended up punching through my apartment wall. But as a general matter, people seem to leave their flags up through rainstorms and blizzards, regardless of whether they’re the weatherproof variety. I’ve noticed several homes that have replaced their flags this spring, after the old flags were flwon through the winter storms.

The flag does not need to be higher than the flags of other nations.

I was wrong about this one, too.

Growing up, I can remember my uncle and grandfather muttering whenever they saw the U.S. flag mixed in with other flags. “No respect” was the politest phrase they would use. They were particularly incensed when the other flags were the same height as the U.S. flag, so, naturally, I believed that the U.S. flag’s pole should always be higher than the poles bearing other country’s flags.

Nope. I checked several websites, including the site maintained by the Veterans Administration. The pole holding the U.S. flag does not need to be higher than other poles. It should be on the right-hand side, if there is a group of flags, but the height doesn’t need to be greater than that of the other flagpoles in the group. In fact, two websites (including the VA site) mentioned that it’s international custom to have all the flagpoles be the same height in times of peace.

The flag should always be on the right-hand side.

I wasn’t aware this was a rule, but thinking about my neighborhood, I can see that most people follow it already.

The U.S. flag, when displayed crossed with another flag, should always be placed on the right-hand side of the display, with its pole in front of the pole holding the other flag.

In this area, a lot of people display the U.S. flag along with another flag, such as the flag for the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. The “Don’t Tread on Me!” flag is also quite popular, for some reason. And of course, people celebrate their ethnic heritage by displaying the flag of the country from which they, or their ancestors, came — Ireland, Italy, Mexico and, surprisingly, Canada appear to be extremely popular places of origin for my neighbors. And in every display that I can recall, the U.S. flag is always on the right-hand side.

Never use the flag as bunting.

I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone try to use the U.S. flag as a simple decoration.

Drive anywhere in this area and you’ll see the U.S. flag adorning railings, fences and doors, either hanging straight down or unfurled and stretched out to be fully visible. I didn’t know that, while you can hang the flag in this way, it must always be unfurled, and should never be displayed in a folded or bundled manner. Every website I visited made the same point: bunting is available for use in patriotic draped decorations. The flag is not a decoration, it is a symbol, an emblem, of the country.

So there are the most common rules for displaying the U.S. flag. That said, I still didn’t succeed in today’s quest. Every store I went to seemed to have two sizes of flags — a sea of the child-sized hand-held ones, and shelves of extremely-large flags meant to grace the flagpoles of suburban Philadelphia. Perhaps when we get closer to Independence Day I’ll find one suitable for my balcony.

I just have to remember to bring it in at night.

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Monstrous Thursdays

I love TCM’s Monstrous Thursdays. Tonight’s features are just what I needed after this crazy week, although one still has to be digitized!

I just finished watching the original Godzilla. The Americanized version, with Raymond Burr, not the Japanese classic of Gojira. I’ve seen this movie so very many times (I’m a bit of a Godzilla fanatic) — and in fact, I can (and did tonight) recite the dialogue by heart for most of the scenes. As usual, when watching the film, I found myself contrasting the American version with the Japanese original and speculating what the lost scenes, cut from the Japanese film, might have looked like and what they might have added to the story. Or would they have have slowed down the pacing, and ruined the film? Since the cuts have never been found, we’ll probably never know.

The second feature has just started — The Creature from the Black Lagoon. I positively love this film. Yes, the opening is a bit hokey. Yes, as the commentator pointed out, I, you, and the audiences of the 1950’s all know that the monster is nothing more than a man in a good rubber suit. And yet, it’s a truly scary movie — a combination of clever lighting, eerie music and an almost-Hitchcockian suspense in the timing of the creature’s attacks.

The water of the lagoon always seems to be murky, yet the innocent swimmers weave their way through the fronds of seaweed. They swim along, and nothing happens, They go back in the water and nothing happens. And then, suddenly, with no warning, the creature strikes.

Reminds me of scenes from Jaws, and makes me wonder if the creators of Jaws were inspired by Creature?

Later tonight, we get the third movie — It Came From Beneath the Sea. A giant octopus attacks San Francisco. A Ray Harryhausen monster — an octopus with only six arms, well, six that can move, thanks to the limitations the budget imposed on Mr. Harryhausen. And you get a bit of comedy in the movie as well, watching a woman scientist shoot down her interested suitor because he’s interfering with her ability to do Science!

Perfect movies to watch on a stormy night and relax from the week’s stresses! All three being shown on TCM are available digitally, too, and ultimately I’ll add them to my collection. However, the Japanese Gojira is not digitally released — and that one should, and must be, digitized!

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A Public Thank You to Kind People

I want to say a public Thank You to some very kind people I’ve met in the last two days.

First, to the woman who gave me directions. I was coming back to Philadelphia from my company’s New York office on Tuesday, when I was diverted onto a new highway. I should have been on 287 south, but was instead shunted onto 17 south.

Route 17 was a — well, a very confusing road. Multiple lanes of traffic going both north and south separated by a high concrete wall and lined with strip malls, box stores and yet more strip malls. There were no road signs telling me how to turn around and head in the opposite direction. Google Maps was no help — it just kept rerouting me to my destination using two-lane roads, doubling the length of time it would take me to reach my home.

Finally, in desparation, I pulled into the parking lot of a Bed Bath and Beyond, and went into the store. I got in line, and explained to the clerk that I was lost and trying to get back to 287.

The woman in line next to me promptly put her purchases on the counter, led me out of the store and proceeded to give me simple, clear directions how to zig-zag through the parking lot to a side road that would get me to 17 north, and back to 287. Five minutes later, I was back on the correct road home. I’d have never figured it out without that shopper’s help so THANK YOU!

The next day, I met another helpful woman at Lord and Taylor’s.

I was in Philadelphia at the time of the building collapse, and between that unfortunate accident and local road construction, it took me close to three hours (in a hot car with no water to drink) to get back to my office. The delay meant I was at work until quite late and hadn’t eaten dinner. As I drove home, feeling utterly exhausted, I realized I needed to stop at Lord and Taylor’s to return something.

And so I went to the store — on the first day of a giant sale. Every checkout counter was jammed with shoppers waiting to pay for their purchases, and there I was, with my small return. The line inched along, the woman in front of me reached the counter, and then she looked back at me. I had a little bag. She had two armfuls of clothes, and more held at the desk. She smiled at me and then unexpectedly told me to go ahead of her. I was out of the store five minutes later, and home twenty minutes after that, where I promptly crawled into bed. Again, to that woman — THANK YOU!

So often, with the daily stress of modern life, we forget that kindness towards others does not have to take a lot of time or effort from us. Those two women spent just five minutes to help a total stranger. It didn’t cost them any money, didn’t require them to go out of their way, just to briefly pause what they were doing and offer their help. But to the person receiving that help — me — it made all the difference in the world. Their kindness saved me so much time, and meant I could get home, and go to sleep, at a decent hour at the end of two very tiring days.

It makes me wonder — just how many times have I had the chance to offer help to someone else, and failed to do so?

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Wish Upon a Star . . .

In my dream, my coworkers are named Hawkeye, Obi-Wan and Cinderella, and I am a happy employee in the House of the Mouse — otherwise known as The Walt Disney Company.

Today is “Start Making Your Dreams Come True Day.” Your Inner Bitch would like to remind you that no matter how big your dream is, you have to start sometime. Might as well be today.”

That was the June 3rd entry in the ‘Getting in Touch with your Inner Bitch’ daily calendar. I absolutely love this calendar — it reminds me NOT necessarily to be a bitch, but to live my life, to keep my needs and interests in mind when going about my daily activities.

I read this entry at breakfast, and then throughout the day, jotted down my various dreams, no matter how nebulous or unformed they might be in my head. By mid-afternoon, I had a very long list. I have so many dreams — places to visit. Books to write. Events to attend, things to own, projects to accomplish, people to meet. I want to publish a successful book, travel to London, attend Comic-Con — the list goes on for four pages. But just what dream was my top desire?

When I caught myself humming the ‘when you wish upon a star‘ theme for the fourth time in twenty minutes, I realized that, subconsciously, I’d already made my choice. I knew, all along, which dream was at the top of my list.

Disney, as a company, posseses my three favorite things — Avengers, Jedi, and Cinderella. If I could choose any company for which to work, it would be, without a doubt, the House of the Mouse.

Don’t be mistaken — I do love my current job. I like my co-workers, my position’s responsibilites are diverse and professionally challenging, and every day I learn or do something new that stretches my abilities and uncovers a new facet of the law, business, medicine and any number of other subjects. Yes, there are the typical annoyances as well, things you will find at any job — a piece of equipment that refuses to work right, that vendor who just won’t follow your instructions, a project that is taking more time and effort than it should. Overall, though, my job is worth those little irritations.

But my company isn’t Disney. I don’t get to play with superheroes. I’ve never explored the galaxy with the Jedi. I didn’t go to the ball with Cinderella. And if I’m being honest, which is what I want to do in this blog, well, I still want to do those things. I want to work somewhere that I can daily interact with three of my favorite, long-abiding interests. Don’t forget, I collect Jedi action figures, read Marvel comics and still happily watch Cinderella whenever I need to boost my mood and attitude.

In my dreams, I work where I can see the next chapter in Marvel comics history unfolding, watch as a new cycle in the ever-expanding universe of Star Wars is crafted.

And fulfill my little girl’s day dream of living in Cinderella’s castle.

Oh, I don’t have any illusions that Disney is a magical company free of workplace tensions, employee infighting or tangled corporate politics. No company on this planet is completely free of those complications. What is important though, the question any employee should ask about their job, is this:

Are there enough intellecutally-interesting projects, emotionally-satisfying rewards, seriously-fun days to make up for those inconveniences?

For me, being involved in the worlds of Disney — Princesses, Jedi, Avengers, theme parks, movies and television shows, toys, cruises — all the components that make up the Mighty Empire of the Mouse — would, I believe, balance out any downsides to taking a job with Disney.

And, of course, as I thought this through, wrote this blog, I realized that there are a few downsides — err, considerations — that would have to be factored in should I seriously pursue this dream. For one thing, I’d have to decide whether I wanted to serve as an attorney for the Mouse. California is one of the few states that doesn’t have reciprocity in its bar admissions; to practice law there, I’d have to take another bar exam. When I sat for the Pennsylvania exam, I spent six straight weeks doing nothing but studying for 18 hours a day.

Yeah, that’s not likely to happen again. Not with my time constraints, work schedule, and financial responsibilities.

But I could work in other capacities — I’m a compliance officer, a trained auditor, a tax expert with a master’s degree. I handle intellectual property matters, litigation and human resources matters. I am a person who’s proven herself capable of learning, and then doing, just about anything.

And then, of course, I’d also have to move to California. This — ah, consideration — actually isn’t that much of an impediment. Yes, I’d miss my family and friends. But I’m single, unattached, and hey — there’s Skype and airplanes. It wouldn’t be the first time I just picked up and moved.

By now, you may be wondering, just what was the purpose of this post? In short, it allowed me to do a stream-of-consciousness thing. I noodled this post for about three hours, and while my fingers typed, my brain was thinking its way through the idea of maybe, just maybe, pursuing this dream.

Could I work for Diensy?

Should I try to work for DIsney?

In the words of one of the Mouse’s denizens (Yoda), “Do or do not. There is no try.”

So, do I?

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Green spring cleaning is a pain

Green spring cleaning developed into a bit of a pain this weekend. Who knew I had that many planters?

A fast post, in light of our thunderstorm.

I was doing well on my goal of green spring-cleaning, of not throwing out anything that could be recycled, reused by someone else or repurposed by me. I’ve only had to throw out a few things — clothes that were unusable as dust rags, some cracked plates, a couple of broken shoes.

Then I reached the balcony and decided to work on the garden supplies.

When, exactly, did I acquire all those pots?

I have giant pots, pots in which small trees could grow. And tiny pots, that can only hold a miniaturized plant.

Pots of plastic and of stone, of terra cotta and what appears to be paper-mache covered — something.

I don’t recall buying most of them. And honestly? I haven’t used most of them in years, if ever.

The larger pots were easy to repurpose — my family members all own homes, and need larger pots for their patios. The tiny ones I gave to friends for their children, who are planting, say, one little lettuce seed to watch it grow.

But the exotic pots, the weirdly-shaped pots, the frankly impractical pots — where was I going to get rid of them absent a landfill? This morning, I wandered outside to go walking, and watched a neighbor put his old office chair on the curb next to the dumpster.

A few minutes later, a couple from another building walked out. Looked at the chair. Came over, picked it up, took it home.

I ran back into my building, gathered up my pots and placed them at the dumpster. As of this evening, there’s one lone, pink, medium-sized plastic pot left.

And on we go.

More and longer posts tomorrow, the power’s flickering and I’m hopping off to avoid killing my computer!