Fitz: Good people of Lake Wobegon celebrate their last Fourth

I love the Fourth of July. I love the Fourth because that’s when Uncle Sam comes down our chimneys, gives all the good patriotic children fireworks and a pocket-size copy of the Declaration of Independence, wishes us all a “Merry Fourth of July,” and flies away on the back of a giant American bald eagle humming “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

I love the Fourth because that’s when all of Tucson gathers at the base of “A” Mountain, like Druids around Stonehenge, secretly hoping it catches on fire when the god of fireworks starts gargling fire in the sky. God bless America, the Tucson Fire Department and hot shot firefighters everywhere.

I love the Fourth because I like to put out the flag to astonish my neighbors who find it inconceivable that a liberal could be a patriot.

Neighbor: You have a flag? I was expecting a hammer and sickle.

Me: Nope. I’m a patriot.

Neighbor: Your flag is upside down, dude.

Me: Thanks, Walter. My bad.

I love the Fourth because that’s when America whistles “Yankee Doodle,” rustles up a picnic, pledges allegiance to hot dogs and apple pie, and gets in touch with its inner Lake Wobegon.

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Sadly, this Fourth will be different in one regard. The good Americans of Lake Wobegon will vanish from the map like Atlantis this weekend when Garrison Keillor retires from “A Prairie Home Companion.”

The governor of Minnesota, Mark Dayton, announced that no state of emergency will be declared. Homeland Security announced that there will be no investigation into the disappearance of Lake Wobegon. Life will go on.

Allow me to channel our friends in Lake Wogebon for a moment.

It’s been a quiet week of gloom for the 800 residents of Lake Wobegon, where folks like Clint and Clara Bunsen, Wally and Pastor Liz prepared for the end. Bertha’s Kitty Boutique and the Sidetrack Tap were boarded up, and the grill at the Chatterbox Cafe turned off.

For one last time, the Sons of Pitches men’s chorus sang “The Star-Spangled Banner” before the Lake Wobegon Whippets lost to St. Olaf, but that was to be expected.

Hundreds of imaginary Lutherans have gathered in the town’s center, by the statue of the Unknown Norwegian, to light candles, sing hymns and dine on powdermilk biscuits served by the Sons of Knute as they await their 4th of July farewell.

Father Wilmer, of Our Lady of Perpetual Responsibility, summed it up. “Lake Wobegon, founded by Unitarian missionaries, settled by German immigrants, and proud of its Norwegian bachelor farmers, will always be our hometown, a town where all the women will be forever strong, all the men good looking, and all the children above average. Now who wants lutefisk?”

I love the Fourth.