BY RICHARD MORGAN

It was the bicentennial. Actually, it was the day AFTER the bicentennial.

For those of you not aware of what I’m referencing, July 4, 1976, was a HUGE day in America. It was the 200th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. And America did it up big time.

Two hundred years is a LONG time, and for us proud Americans, it was a big deal. Note that the next July 4 will be 250 years since that great day, and I’m sure we’ll have some big celebrations as well. Maybe I’m old and calloused, but I can’t imagine it will be as big as the 200th was. If for no other reason than that we don’t know what to call it. Two hundred years was the bicentennial. An easy word to remember, and it makes sense. But 250? I’ve read it’s called the semiquincentennial. Yeah, that’s nice. But it doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. But maybe it will still be a good party. We’ll see.

But let’s go back about fifty years. To July FIFTH, 1976. The bicentennial had just concluded. The parties were over, the fireworks done, and while the red, white, and blue was still up for celebration, most of it was past. But the reason this day was special was because it was my mother’s birthday.

Mom was born on July 5, 1926, so it was her fiftieth birthday. Me? I was only 20 years old. I was young, carefree, and pretty foolish, as most 20-year-olds are. I had my whole life ahead of me. I was about to enter my 4th year of college, and the world was looking pretty good. I was thinking about all that when I was on Mom and Dad’s patio, talking about the 200 years and all it contained.

Of course, to a twenty-year-old, someone who’s 50 seems ancient. So when we were talking about the celebrations that had just passed, I said to Mom, “You know, do you realize you’re one fourth as old as our country?”

Looking at these words 50 years later, they don’t seem that big a deal. Yet they were. Mom didn’t feel all that old, I’m sure. But comparing her to the age of the USA sure made her seem old. She was not pleased.

Yes, that seemed harmless enough to me. But to a 50-year-old woman, it didn’t track quite the same. Because George Washington, Ben Franklin, and John Hancock seemed SOOO long ago, ¼ of that still seemed old. And Mom was not happy at all! I had just called her old and compared her to the ancients. Or at least that’s how she took it. She was pretty steamed. But of course, she got over it. Yes, 50 was old, but she accepted that as well as most of us do. Still, I didn’t have to highlight that for her.

But now, as we approach 250, I’m 50 years older. And Mom at 50 doesn’t seem nearly so old as she did to me when I was 20. I’ll be 70 soon, so yes much older than she was. And to be fair, I’ll be MORE than ¼ as old as the country.

And now I can understand why Mom was mad. We know we’re old. But we don’t need some smart-mouthed kid reminding us!