the fourth of july

centennial, co

it couldn't even last through the morning. granted, i was tired from only a few hours sleep and laguardia has a way of crippling even the sturdiest of buzzes. but i thought that my contact high on american spirit had enough legs to get me through the week. it only took one man to bring it down.

it's not that this was a bad human being. still, the pilot who sat next to me on my flight this morning did not strike a favorable first impression with the gaudy american flag necktie, nor did he rectify his standing when he warned me not to change seats because that was the agents job (i fly on passes, it doesn't matter). he solidified his poor presentation by setting a paperback copy of a patriot's history of the united states on the unfurled tray table before him. for those that don't know, the book was written as a rebuttal to howard zinn's a people's history of the united states. the latter is a robust work of scholarship; the former is flammable (you are highly encouraged to test this hypothesis).

alright: i exaggerate. i would never condone the burning of any book. all individuals have the right to express their opinions and better luck to them if they find someone willing to print and distribute. that doesn't mean that they should be read. the patriot's history raises an interesting question: why do so many americans go to such great lengths to reenforce their own stupidity? this right wing phenomenon of saying that everything was and always is perfect in u.s. america and that any counterveiling notions are the product of the liberal conspiracy in the mainstream media should have been extinguished by now. we should have already moved on from the illusions that america is one giant cleaver household. we did not exterminate a continent's worth of native people's. we did not enslave generations worth of humans to toil in our fields. we have not had systematic discrimination based upon race, religion, gender, sexuality, or any other demographic. everything is perfect. everyone is happy.

the presentation, however, is like the sitcom about the happy family when we know that all of its child actors are destined for meth addictions. the problem with this thesis is that it forces anyone who acknowledges the stained sheets of our past to feel further and further alienated from the beautiful country that we live in. up until i had a groggy interaction with a pilot hell bent on fortifying his own castle of ignorance, i felt as if i had just been in that country.

my first fourth of july on u.s. american soil in seven years was spent with amazing people. i was a part of an impromptu four-on-four touch football game with black, hispanic, and white players on both teams. i watched a brilliant, albeit distant, fireworks display next to families of all the colors of the rainbow. people were smiling, the sun was shining, and the tranquil euphoria concomitant with days of tacitly permitted public alcohol consumption spread around and covered us like a warm blanket. it seemed that age, ethnicity, gender, and, to a reasonable extent, class were set aside and people just enjoyed themselves. it was, as i wish it could be, the real america.

so i suppose that's why they call it a holiday. we do not yet deserve the holiweek, -month, or -year. this country and the people it has produced and its riveting story are worth all the fireworks in china and all the watermelon in eden. but only in restrained binges. until we can all open our minds and extend our tolerance, or even just admit that our blind nationalism does us no favors, the calendar boxes surrounding our days of celebration and remembrance need be ones of construction. until we can tear down the walls of proto-national delusion and be cognizant of the work to be done, on an individual and national level, we do not deserve to self-congratulate every day of the year. we cannot point fingers outward. we cannot pompously puff up our chests and profess to be holier than thou. we cannot continue to behave unapologetically proud when there is much for which we need be repentant. so until that day when class, race, religion, sexual preference, age, or any other demographic truly do not matter in u.s. america, let's keep our nationalism confined to its appropriate postal holidays. and when that day comes, i promise to be the first to wear the gaudy necktie right beside my fellow passenger.


just a thought concerning fireworks
this year marks the 400th anniversary of henry hudson's exploration. hence, the decision to shoot the fireworks over his eponymous river rather than the east river, as is genuinely the custom. for one, it may be h.h.'s 400th anniversary, but a lot has happened in new york and i'm sure we can say that something pretty important happened near the east river 200 years ago. or in queens, 37 years ago. hell, i had a delicious bagel the other week, and that was over here. so why don't we keep the fireworks for new york city and let four boroughs have front row seats? the thought that people in jersey were given preferential viewing treatment to people from brooklyn is absolutely appalling. remember, new york, you need brooklyn a lot more than we need you. besides, having fireworks that close to jersey is dangerous: i'm pretty sure that chest wax and axe body spray are highly flammable.