The Fourth is coming. I’ve made my list.
Barack Obama & Maxine Waters (my ticket for 2008).
Jazz. The Blues. Rock and Roll.
Silicon Valley (dang you guys are smart – and you’re keeping me employed – keep it coming.)
New York City.
The Rocky Mountains.
Ragtime. Bluegrass. Motown.
The Underground Railroad (because they stuck it to the f*ckers).
Sarah Vowell, my favorite partly cloudy patriot.
We the People.
John Muir (convert).
Canyonlands. Zion. Goblin Valley.
Frank Lloyd Wright.
Chief Joseph (with my deep regrets).
Jacob Riis (another convert).
Any train traveling between two major US cities and crossing a mountain range.
There’s more, of course, but these are the first that come to mind. And I’ll save the “could use improvement” list for later.
Happy Birthday, America. You’re awfully good at f*cking things up, but I’m awfully glad you’re mine.
(Besides: a girl gotta dance with him what brung her. But that part where the rest of the world is pissed at us? Let's do something about that next.)