Chapter 20: American Flags (7/14)

As the Suns Sets on Boston

May 27, 2022

We had a run on them for July 4th, and, with election season approaching, we’ve run out of the rest of them, and the warehouse is out too. We have a flag up in our window (always have been this whole time) and most recently we perched a fan behind it, so it looks to be blowing in the wind.

“I love that,” one local lady says to me, “... isn’t it funny that we live in an age when you know who’s on your side simply by… flying an American flag?” she says, despondently.

There is in fact quite a lot of support for President Trump (and America in general) in Southie, but to vocally say that out loud might lead to all sorts of problems and predicaments, but they’re out there.

This Saturday at noon there was even a “Stand-Out,” right here on the main Telegraph Square, with flags, and honking, and some considerable enthusiasm.

It’s ultimately a hopeless case, however. Between the (literal) Union Thug mayor Martin “Marty” Walsh, to the tens of thousands of woke college students—right down to the literal Communist who would ultimately assume power long after I will leave—

Boston is lost.

Which is a shame, because Boston is a great American city and home to the American Revolution.

But sadly, it is lost.

Addendum: The stand-out for Trump has drawn in some of my favorite Southie patriots and one of them, a yuckster and an old Southie hood-rat to be sure, has plastered himself with Trump stickers and panties for a mask.

Yes, panties for a mask.

He makes a quick entrance and exit into the store to briefly laugh and point at everyone who has a mask on. It’s in part a diversion and a statement, but it’s mostly illustrative of the clown world we have become.