Last night I found myself overcome with an odd sense of patriotism. Albeit the third glass of wine at the neighbors BBQ might have been a factor, I found myself in an oddly reflective mood regarding the events of the day and my life in America. Here I sit having watched my good buddy Reba McIntyre singing up a storm of “beautiful for spacious skies” followed by an amazing display of fireworks on the capitol mall, masterfully orchestrated to the 1812 Overture.
Ah yes, this great land of opportunity “from sea to shining sea.” Where else can the downtrodden find such tasteful pop-ups offering male enhancement and glorious offers of affection from Ukrainian pen pals who “have not in long time talked with the e-mail for you.”
I eagerly await my next offer of millions from an unknown person in Hong Kong who has died and left these monies for me to spend at my philanthropic discretion.
Predatory marketing practices aside, to the rest of us who try to provide an honest value at an honest price and pride themselves in presenting decent content and service, I raise my glass. Obama didn’t poke his head out of the White House for the expected photo-op, but he didn’t need to. It still is after all a grand old flag, and this slightly hung over porcine protagonist is proud to be an American.