Houston criminal defense lawyer Rob Fickman, whose Stetson just happens to fit me perfectly*, came up with an idea a few years ago. He thought that July 4th, Independence Day, would make a damn fine day for the reading of the Declaration of Independence, adopted by the Continental Congress.
And so the Texas Criminal Defense Lawyer Association began a program of reading the Declaration on the Fourth of July. Yes, they actually do it on July 3rd at courthouses across Texas, but that’s only because everybody is home swilling beer and munching barbecue on the 4th, and there would be no one there to hear it. But let’s not blow the concept over such minor details.
The readings have since spread across the country, with criminal defense lawyers reading the Declaration of Independence on the steps of more than 50 courthouses.
Have kids? Have friends? Today would make a fine day to read the Declaration of Independence to them.
Have no friends or family? Then you have all the time in the world to read it to yourself.
Don’t have a copy handy? The internet is here for you. Here’s the text of the Declaration of Independence from the national archives.
And while the ribs are on the grill, and you have some extra time on your hands, you might want to consider reading the United States Constitution as well. It couldn’t hurt.
Don’t worry if your beer gets warm. That’s how the Brits prefer it anyway, and without the Declaration of Independence, you would be working for them today, maybe for the East India Company doing doc review. Now do you appreciate the significance of the Declaration of Independence? I thought so.
And if it wasn’t for our separation from England, we would never have been able to create a government that would give us this:
Now, get back to that beer. It’s not getting any colder, you know.
* This point was made abundantly clear to Fickman in a honkytonk bar, and yet Fickman failed to get the hint, proving that Texans are either selfish or hate Yankees.
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Nah… it’d be the Hudson Bay Company. Those Brits drew pretty bold lines when it came to commercial exclusivity.
But we’d sure look purty in those stripy blanket coats.
That’s old school thinking. I’m into future of law new school thinking. Bangalore, baby. That’s where the action’s at. If only the empire held.
Poor planning on my part and general familial antipathy leaves me with no access to ribs. So while I can and will read the Declaration and swill beer, I am powerless to mark the all-important third part. But I have a plan. I understand you have great access to such necessities. You can arrange a delivery? As a showing of my gratitude, I leave below my pithy, favorable comment, which you are free to quote and re-cycle: Nice post.
I would do that for you, unresolved bacon maple donut issue notwithstanding, except I’ve just learned that a TV reporter from ABC will be coming to my 4th of July barbecue, perhaps to interview me on the Zimmerman trial, and he’s going to be hungry. So I’ve told him I will feed him my spare ribs.
We don’t hate Yankees.
We just don’t see how they are relevant.
:p
So I’m only relevant when it’s time to pay for the beers? I feel so used.
Nice idea. Who remembers what these documents say. I am going to look at them right now. By the way, I like baseball much more than cricket.
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Lest we forget, as cool as the Declaration of Independence sounds, it was really just the glossy marketing brochure for some crazy Future of Freedom™ concept (kinda, but not exactly, like the Future of Law™ propaganda today) . . .
But then it quickly degenerated into heavy lifting: our forefathers had to fight and win a tough Revolutionary War, only to stumble along trying to build a nation with the less than stellar Articles of Confederation, finally nailing it with the U.S. Constitution — which, BTW, used to be a very substantive and meaningful piece of parchment . . .
Now?? Not so much 🙁 (For some reason, today I feel like the Crying Indian in that early 1970s commercial) . . .
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“No ribs for me?”
Yes, that is the test, beers.
Would it be possible for you to arrange for some good German imports this time? It would make you so much more relevant. Or at least until all the beer is gone…
I’ll even throw in some free barbeque lessons to make up for drinking your beer. :p
You know, the shame is that the guy wasn’t even an Indian. His real name was Oscar DeCorti and he was Italian-American.
So no ribs for him.
Don’t be an Italian hater.