Now I remember this weekend’s big historical event: the 150th anniversary of statehood. We appear remarkably indifferent to the event. There are several theories:
A) We don’t care.
That one pretty much covers it.
B) 150 is not the same as 100. It feels incomplete, a forced attempt at gaiety. We’re too far from the original event – when you turn 100, you can drag out a centenarian or two, get some quotes from someone whose father attended the signing ceremony. But 150 years ago is ancient history, and there’s nothing around us that connects to those days. It’s on the other side of the wall.
C) Lack of a Ken Burns documentary with carefully selected music and slow pans back and forth over sepia photographs.
D) People worry that it will be a spinachy thing that’s good for you, with lectures and protests and solemn re-evaluation, unlike the centennial, which was a whee-ha rah-for-us event.
E) Hangovers not completely lifted from 100th anniversary
F) Our sense of ourselves is less cogent and boastful than it used to be; we don’t feel we’ve accomplished as much in the last 50 years as we did in the previous 50 years. We don’t feel like the Flour Capitol of the world, we’re 37% less hardy, all the noisy smelly he-man industry is gone, and now it’s just mostly farmers and people typing in offices.
G) The weather has made everyone hate this place and wonder what curse of God made settlers come here in the first place.
H) We figure it’ll somehow get wrapped into the Fourth and the State Fair, so until then, we’ll keep our powder dry.
Answer? All of the above.
Another possibile answer
I) It's too hard to pronounce "sesquicentennial."