Further following of the Founding Fathers  

By Stuart Green

“Hello, all you post-Revolutionaries, and welcome to the first Founding Fathers’ Day, dedicated to all you fathers who helped find this new country, which seemed to be lost for all these many years – or eons, as we say in the parlor. My name is Aaron Guild of South Dedham, a quirky name for a town that we hope to change someday to something modern and catchy – like South of Dedham.

“Anyway, I know a little something about fathers as I’ve done that bit 10 times over. You think starting a country is tough, you should try loading a musket in the middle of the night with three kids looking for their breeches and a couple of daughters arguing about whose turn it is to use the silver knitting needles and brother’s been in that outhouse for such a long time now. And me, just trying to get out of the door to attend to my hobbies, like feeding my oxen some hay and dying a few Redcoats a lovely shade of Colonial Blue.

“Back to this occasion quite auspicious and not a bit suspicious. We have some great Patriots lined up who have conquered Concord, muscle-flexed in Lexington, and hit the Dorchester Heights. First, fresh off his horse from his copper mill down the street, let’s give a big outlaw applause to Paul Revere.”

“Thanks, just got a minute on this great day in June. I’m off to the northern end of ye Olde Boston for some business, sire a few more children, and pick up some pastry, giving rise to the great saying, `Leave the musket, take the cannoli.’ It’s great to be standing here today; actually, it’s great to be out of that saddle for a while and standing anywhere. I’d like to thank my children for making me the Founding Father that I am today, even if some say I was merely a foot Minuteman. I’ll leave you all with this, something I tell my kids every night: “Listen my children and you shall hear, the man named for the beach, yes, Paul Revere.”

“Thanks, or as we like say in the Aaron Guild house, `When word of war came to Aaron, up like a shot he sprang from the Tavern. Quick as a deer, wise as a fox, he only had time to say good-bye to his ox.’

“Out next speaker couldn’t be with us, giving an excuse about as being elected as president or some such thing. But he did send a letter in his best quillmanship, arriving only four months after he posted it. To be fair, he had to wait a few weeks for US stamps to be issued, and another week for his likeness to be air-brushed to his liking. Anyhow, I’ll read a few words from G. Washington:

“Thank-you for the invitation to the first Founding Fathers Day. I was glad to help find this great country of ours, but hope to move out the executive mansions of New York and Philadelphia someday and find a city not claimed by any state. And, in all modesty, I do hope Congress will consider naming it after my leadership in the war and as president, and call it, ahem, George. May this Founding Fathers Day find its way into your heart. (See I can write, too. Take that, Jefferson!)”

“Now to close out Founding Fathers Day, we’ve asked John Adams to say a word. And, knowing how Mr. Adams loves to extend his time in front of a crowd, we’ve told him that when we say a word, we mean just that – a word. All yours, John.”

“Fourscore.”

“Thanks, Mr. Adams. That’s all we have time for. Maybe another dignitary can build on that someday.”

Stuart Green is a freelance columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].