Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I'm In Love With America

I think this nation deserves a blogger who is really in love with America. We’ve had enough of these cynical bloggers who mope about, complaining about how America has done them wrong, and I want you to know that I feel great passion for America. I can’t get enough of this beautiful, big-hearted nation. She’s probably the strongest, most affectionate nation I’ve ever met, and let’s be frank, she’s gorgeous too.

Hear me out. Because I’m not ready to leave Sarah yet. I want to make a go of this relationship, and she’s been with me through some hard times. I feel I owe her. But America makes me feel young and reckless. And she knows it, too, always praising me for how free I act, what a great spirit I have, as long as I stay close at hand where she can keep a close eye on me.

I love spending time with America. She knows how to say all the right things that make me feel I could do anything. Some other countries may second-guess me on this, pointing out that Iceland is more developed, Denmark has a more equal relationship with its people, or India has a faster-growing economy. Sure, the facts may speak well of other nations, but they just can’t say enough to make me feel right, like America can.

Whenever I’ve spent time with Iceland, her volcanic temper has set me off, and her attempts to subvert air travel seems retrograde. India may wear pretty saris and whip up a mean curry, but she just feels so... full. Her rivers just don’t flow like they did in the old days. And Denmark is Denmark. Tell me, does anyone really love Denmark? She can stay with Norway for all I care.

Sure, America may have the oldest Constitution on Earth, but I say she’s young. Those other countries may have had a bunch of work, claiming that they’re a new and different Germany, but that dusty bitch is just a fresh new dress on the same old Holy Roman Empire. And I don’t care that Japan’s legislature is less than half as old as America’s, because if you’re old enough to have an emperor, you’re old.

You hear me, EU? You can claim to be as young and hip as you want, but you’re still old!

America doesn’t just have great character or a beautiful spirit. She’s an attractive country. You know it too. From the big swelling curves of the Rocky Mountains to the smooth, curving sweep of the Mississippi River, America is a damned gorgeous country. I can’t get enough of just looking at this nation. Sure, she’s just lying there, but when I plow her fields or scale her heights, I feel something gorgeous deep in my heart.

And don’t bother to burden me with her blemishes. You can talk about all the digital billboards and Burger King franchises that have grown and clustered on my beautiful Ansel Adams centerfold. But I’m not a spring chicken anymore either. All the time I’ve spent working to keep her in pretty dresses has put some pretty deep care lines on my own face. But let me tell you, my darling America is totally worth it.

Sometimes, America just runs her fingers through my hair and whispers how she feels about me, too. She talks about how free I’ve become since I’ve been with her, how rich I’ve become, how powerful she’s made me. Sure, I know how much I spend on her, while she spends her days running around with rich underwear models and I work in the factory, but that doesn’t matter; I know how she makes me feel.

Let me be honest. I don’t know if she feels for me like I feel for her. I know that a lot of men and women with perfect hair and bottomless budgets get to spend a lot more time proclaiming their love than I do. But she never promised I’d be her one and only. She only asked me that I be faithful to her, not spend time with other nations, and not toy with her. And that seems like a fair trade.

When you hear other bloggers claiming how much they love America, just keep in mind that I said it first. We’ve been together for a long time. And we look out for one another. Because, in any relationship with a country, any moment can turn passionate.  And I’m passionate about America.


  1. Yeah, but America can't cook you up a mean Ziti al Forno!

  2. But she can promise to do so, and that's what matters.