By Granite State Report – Political Satire
New Hampshire loves its motto. You see it on license plates, highway signs, coffee mugs, and the occasional tattoo regretted after a night at the Red Arrow Diner. “Live Free or Die” — it sounds bold, noble, like the kind of thing you’d shout before storming a barricade or, at the very least, refusing to pay for Wi-Fi at a Hampton Inn.
But here’s the catch: nobody in New Hampshire can actually agree on what it means. The DMV treats it like a multiple-choice question. When you go in for your license renewal, you’re basically asked: Option A: Live Free. Option B: Die. Please circle one, initial, and don’t forget your proof of residence.
On paper, it should mean maximum liberty. But New Hampshire’s version of “freedom” looks more like a menu of arbitrary quirks. No seatbelt law for adults? Freedom! Want to be hurled through your windshield into a moose at 65 mph? Liberty demands it. Motorcycle helmet optional? Absolutely — because nothing says self-reliance like treating brain surgery as a personality test.
But try buying a six-pack of beer at 9 a.m. on a Sunday. Suddenly, freedom clocks out. Apparently, the Founding Fathers didn’t fight the British so you could enjoy a Bloody Mary before noon. That would be chaos. Civilization would collapse.
And then there’s recycling. Or car insurance. Or fireworks. Depending on the town, you might be free to light enough explosives in your backyard to reenact the Siege of Fallujah, but heaven help you if you put your cans in the wrong bin.
It all makes “Live Free or Die” less a motto and more of a riddle. You’re free, except when you’re not. You can die, but only on the state’s schedule. It’s less Patrick Henry and more a Verizon data plan: unlimited in theory, heavily restricted in practice, and with a lot of small print.
Still, the motto has a certain charm. Other states sound like travel brochures — “The Sunshine State,” “The Garden State.” New Hampshire is the only one that doubles as a threat. Cross our border, and the road sign basically screams: Welcome. Choose carefully.
At the end of the day, maybe that’s the real beauty of it. Freedom here isn’t neat or tidy. It’s a paradox, wrapped in bureaucracy, sprinkled with maple syrup, and occasionally set on fire by someone testing their new bottle rockets. Live Free or Die isn’t a choice. It’s a lifestyle — preferably one with four-wheel drive.
