The Fourth

Since moving to New York almost 30 years ago, two things have puzzled me about life in this big city. During the seventh inning stretch at major league baseball parks, a recording of Kate Smith singing God Bless America is played. An announcement is made asking everyone to sing along. The song asks God to bless America, stand beside her, and guide her.

If America has first dibs on the creator, which we seem to believe, why not request blessings for the whole world? I suspect it’s because there are evil parts of the world and we don’t like them. We love to ignore our own evils and pretend all we do is good things. Spinning, lying, and trickery are in our DNA.

The United States of America holds a masters degree in ass covering. A lot of deep doo doo has managed to escape, but it doesn’t matter. America’s public relations team has us thinking our shit don’t stink. “Stay on message” is one of our favorite mantras. Rinse and repeat

We love to cram hot dogs down our throats, too. Every year on the dear old Fourth Of July, a contest is held to see who can shove the most hot dogs down their gullet the fastest. That night on the 11:00 news, we see footage of contestants dipping hot dogs in water, so they go down quicker. The winner gets to wear a prizefighter type belt and some cash. There is something called the International Federation of Competitive Eating to oversee this madness. All in the name of tradition.

Sorry guys, we’ve been doing this a long time, so we’re going to keep on doing it. That’s probably what they said about slavery for a while, too. I don’t think there will be much resistance to our wasting food though. Folks around the world will be too hungry to revolt.

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