Flag Fatigue - May 31 (2)

Thursday, May 31

After four hours at the USAF museum, I ride north on minor roads, hoping to meet a fellow member of Motorcycle Travel Network in Sylvania, just outside Toledo. Here and there on such roads I've seen sig warning there might be Amish riding their horse buggies, and finally I do see one, with a kid driving it. But along those roads, it also seems like every other town has decorated all of main street in Stars & Stripes, and all too many house have an American flag hanging outside on the porch. One post office has even a POW/MIA (prisoner of war/missing in action) one beneath the national one.

Seen purely from a graphics point of view, the American flag might well be the most beautiful of them all. It does have a strong symbolism connected with it too, both for those who proudly fly it, and for those elsewhere, who for various reason resent it. It may have been the USAF museum and its tributes to US military might, and it may just be that I've seen probably thousands of them by now, that a certain fatigue sets in. In Denmark, where Danish flags also decorate birthday cakes as well as Christmas trees, there are no politics associated with it (and next year 'Dannebrog' will be celebrating its 800-year anniversary). But as in so many other instances, things are different in America.

After taking pics of this small-town mural, I manage to ride back the wrong way of a one-way street, and enter main street right in front of two police cars coming from each direction.

The police officer that gets to me first has no idea about how to deal with my Danish license plates and driver's license, and eventually decides not to do anything about my transgression.

The Sylvania host turns out to be riding her motorcycle around in Colorado, so over the phone we wish each other a safe journey. I book a Toledo hotel room online - when I show up it turns out to be overbooked - I book another one - ride through the town's freeway system in darkness - check in - update the blog -  and finally allow myself to collapse. 

Chicago to Toronto.