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Tomorrow, in case you hadn't noticed, is July 4, 1975. And if you think that's something, just wait until next year. It may be coming out of your cars already, but the Bicentennial hype has barely gotten underway. By next year, there will probably be Bicentennial ashtrays, cufflinks and toilet paper. Those television spots that have your favorite celebrities telling you what happened Two Hundred Years Ago Today will probably be reduced to noting the fact that Two Hundred Years Ago Today. Benjamin Franklin picked his nose. There will almost certainly be lots and lots of huge, teeming crowds, with hosts of crying children and dozens of cases of heat prostration. And lots of money changing hands. Really something to look forward to.
But, if you're around Boston this summer, you'll have a chance to get sick of the Bicentennial even before it really starts. Right this very minute, people are dialing 338-1975, the number of Boston 200, and listening to a recorded voice telling them all the Bicentennial activities they can rush out and see. There are Bicentennial plays, Bicentennial concerts, Bicentennial exhibits, Bicentennial tours, Bicentennial movies and Bicentennial lectures. Boston 200 has patriotic events to occupy your time right up through December 1976, when the whole thing collapses and we can all forget about who sneezed Two Hundred Years Ago Today and get back to normal. That is, until 2075, when our descendants will be subjected to the whole spiel again.
The sad thing is that the Bicentennial people are ruining what could have been a good thing. There's nothing wrong with a healthy interest in history, and it's only natural to want to look back fondly at what is probably the least tarnished stage of this country's relatively young life--its infancy. And many of the Bicentennial productions have a historical immediacy that is intriguing.
The problem is overkill and that problem may be unavoidable. Every sociological subdivision, ethnic group and branch of the performing arts wants to get in on the act, to prove it's their Bicentennial, too, whether it is or not. Some of this clamoring to participate can be analyzed as a desire to claim a share of the Bicentennial profits. Witness the squalid tug of war between Boston, Philadelphia, Washington and every other city that wants to boost its tourism by being designated America's Bicentennial City. Enough of this patriotic crap about the United States; the real question is which one of them is going to walk off with the money?
But I would be willing to admit that there is more at work here than sheer greed. The Bicentennial Commission's decision to split the festivities between a number of cities was of course a politic one--maximize the number of places where people can spend money, spread the wealth, and make everyone happy except maybe a few crackpot citizens who don't want hordes of tourists tramping over their community). But it was also an appropriate decision because it recognized the need to bring into all this Bicentennialia as many people as possible. If you don't bring them in, they feel left out. It's like not being invited to your own country's birthday party.
And what's really amazing is how people seem to be looking at the Bicentennial that way. The North End has sprouted an Italian Bicentennial Committee that is currently sponsoring free Commedia Dell' Arte productions outdoors. How many Italians could there have been in this country in 1776? But then, why not? Certainly no one would be in favor of restricting Bicentennial activities to those whose ancestors actually killed one or more Redcoats. After all, there's nothing more American than ethnicity, and no doubt there are Irish Bicentennial exhibits as well as the ones in the North End and Chinatown.
It's a little more difficult to understand how what are usually thought of as the disaffected elements in American society manage to get up some patriotic enthusiasm for the Bicentennial. But they do, usually distorting American history somewhat in the process. A prime example of this is the People's Bicentennial Commission, a half-baked organization of radicals (I'm at a loss to categorize them any more specifically) whose own personal interpretation of the Revolution is a populist one. Our revolutionary heritage should lead us to smash big business and "Tell it to Wall Street." (Just what Wall Street is supposed to be told is unclear.) the PBC could make a case for our Founding Fathers being individualists, maybe, but populists? Questionable at best.
Then there are the two great outcast groups, women and blacks, making surprise appearances in the Bicentennial listings. No matter how many times Crispus Attucks is mentioned, the fact remains that, for blacks, the Bicentennial marks the first time the Afro-American population of this country got shafted by an American government. And while women are busily digging up their own Bicentennial heroes--did you know there was a female Paul Revere named Sibyl Ludington--they shouldn't forget that there's a good reason for the phrase Founding Fathers.
If all this incredible output of time and energy is an accurate reflection of general interest in the Bicentennial, then it indicates that virtually no one is ready to turn his or her back on this country and say "You go off and have your Bicentennial. I'll mind my own business." It means that no matter how little the Bicentennial might seem to hold for these people personally, they will manage to extract some thread that they can identify with. So what if those so-called revolutionaries sold out the slaves and beat their wives, they seem to be saying, we made our contribution anyway and we're going to throw it at you along with everyone else's red, white and blue propaganda. It's like someone who's been tossed into a river pointing proudly to the fact that he can swim.
And that's all well and good, as long as no one tries to paint an unjustifiable, rosy picture of what actually went on in 1776. The Revolution might have been predominantly male and WASP, but that's no reason why the Bicentennial should be.
What I really find difficult to believe, though is the assertion that this unending stream of Bicentennial brouhaha is really the voice of the people speaking. I mean, how many people have come up to you and told you how excited they were about the Bicentennial? There are probably a lot more people who are dreading the long haul until December 1976 than are looking forward to it. I, for one, have already developed a deep-seated antipathy towards the number 200 and I cringe when I encounter any word that begins with "bi". Even for those who are for some reason actually enjoying this Bicentennial bombardment, the Day itself is bound to be anticlimax. The best place to wait out July 4, 1976, for everyone concerned, will be well out of the country, preferably on the other side of a sizeable body of water--perhaps in the land of our old oppressors. Second best will be right in the middle of it all. Just grit your teeth and keep your eyes and ears open. After all, this kind of thing only happens once every hundred years.
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