I have a Fourth of July ritual of sorts. On or about the holiday every year I kick back and watch the musical “1776.”

Granted, it’s not the manliest of activities. I could be out burying M-80s in the yard to see what sort of crater their explosions carve out, for example.

Not my own yard, obviously. Learned that lesson as a teenager.

But I consider Sherman Edwards’ script--made into a movie back in 1973--one of the most concise and accessible essays on the Declaration of Independence around. Sure, the writers take some liberties for brevity and dramatic effect. They manage, however, to cram reasonably accurate recreations of the heated debates over natural rights, tyranny, slavery, treason and such into a matter of 142 minutes.

Besides, any songwriting team able to set justification for something as arcane (and debilitating) as the triangle trade to music deserves praise.

Musicals generally shy away from issues as important as the human condition. For every “You Have to be Carefully Taught” (Lieutenant Cable’s exposure  racism’s roots from “South Pacific”), there are a few dozen songs of the “You Gotta Have Heart” or “Surry With A Fringe On Top” ilk.

There are three particular scenes in “1776” that qualify as what the smart set call “teachable moments.”

In one, Benjamin Franklin counters John Dickinson’s approval of Britain’s crackdown on rights during dangerous times with a stern (and often unheeded) “those who give up their liberty for a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

Earlier, with the Continental Congress divided on whether or not to even allow debate of the idea of American independence, Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island stands up and says “in all my years I ain’t never heard, seen nor smelled an issue that was so dangerous it couldn’t be talked about.”

Too often we shy away from debate. I mean real debate, not the television news cop out of sitting a “liberal” and a “conservative” in a studio for five minutes of softball questioning.

How else do we learn but by listening to--and fencing with--other ideas?

The final “must watch” scene finds John Adams squaring off against South Carolina’s Edward Rutledge over the issue of slavery, both refusing to budge.

In a sidebar conversation, Adams tells Franklin “If we give in on this issue, posterity will never forgive us.”

“That’s probably true,” Franklin responds, “but we won’t hear a thing--we’ll be long gone.”

Then in one of the more pertinent speeches ever written into a Broadway musical, the sage adds “besides, what would posterity think we were? Demi-gods? We’re men, no more no less, trying to get a nation started against greater odds than a more generous God would have allowed. First things first, John. Independence; America. If we don’t secure that, what difference will the rest make?”

Franklin is asserting the absolute necessity of compromise--something apparently forgotten in our age of partisan stubbornness. Progress, he insists, can often be achieved by giving in, by (as he said later), doubting “a little of your own infallibility.”

So much for my ritual: a little musical reminder that individual liberty should be guarded, debate should be welcome and--most importantly--compromise was part of our Founding Fathers’ intent.

Now back to watching my usual action-packed films.