[dropcap]T[/dropcap]here’s something about one American telling another American how to behave when the national anthem is played that reminds me of a corseted school marm. 

I had one of those once, not a corset, but a corseted school marm. She stood before the class as straight as an arrow, as if she had swallowed a long stick whole. A big switch hung above the blackboard, her darting eyes ever in search of a place to use it. Her object was to right the world’s ills, starting with t...