HAPPY 250TH, AMERICA! 🇺🇸

The land that I love…

…and the government that gives me high blood pressure.

Last night I sat on my lawn chair watching the drone show and fireworks put on by the York Chamber, and somewhere between the giant eagle made out of drones and the fireworks that rattled my rib cage, I got emotional.

Not because I’m getting soft.

Well…

Maybe a little.

The older I get, the sappier I become. Time is hauling absolute ass, people. Yesterday I was twenty. Today I throw my back out looking at a laundry basket wrong.

How did that happen?

But here’s what hit me.

Nobody celebrates their country quite like Americans.

Nobody.

We throw an entire birthday party for our nation.

We light thousands of dollars on fire because… FREEDOM.

We grill enough hamburgers and hot dogs to feed a small nation.

We buy enough red, white, and blue decorations to make our garages look like Uncle Sam exploded.

We gather our families.

We laugh.

We eat entirely too much potato salad.

We let our children run around like caffeinated raccoons while somebody’s uncle inevitably says, “Hold my beer.”

It’s beautiful.

It’s chaotic.

It’s the most American thing I’ve ever seen.

And I absolutely love it.

Now before somebody on the internet stretches before they reach…

I LOVE MY COUNTRY.

Read that again.

I.

LOVE.

MY.

COUNTRY.

I do NOT love most of the people running it.

Those are two completely different statements.

I don’t care if they’re Republicans, Democrats, Independents, or members of the Society of Professional Ding Dongs.

If you’ve been in Washington so long that you think a gallon of milk costs $2.37 and a family of five can survive on “cutting back on Starbucks,” congratulations—you’ve officially lost the plot.

These people don’t know what it’s like to live paycheck to paycheck.

They don’t know what it’s like to stand in Walmart doing Olympic-level mental gymnastics with your calculator trying to decide which groceries have to go back because your electric bill was higher than expected.

They don’t know what it’s like to work your ass off every single week and STILL wonder how you’re going to make everything stretch until payday.

Most of them haven’t had to choose between fixing the car or fixing the dishwasher.

They haven’t looked at their bank account and said, “Well…I guess we’re having ‘creative pantry surprise’ for supper.”

The average American has become a damn financial acrobat.

We’re juggling bills.

We’re juggling groceries.

We’re juggling gas.

We’re juggling insurance.

We’re juggling medical bills.

At this point, if Cirque du Soleil is hiring, America is QUALIFIED.

And can we talk about money for a second?

Who invented this nonsense?

Seriously.

Who was the first guy that looked around and said…

“You know what would be hilarious? Let’s make people spend eighty percent of their one beautiful life working so they can maybe afford the privilege of continuing to exist.”

Sir.

I just wanna talk.

Respectfully…

What in the cinnamon toast Kentucky fried hell were you thinking?

We all enter this world exactly the same way.

Naked.

Broke.

Screaming.

And somehow somebody convinced the rest of humanity that little pieces of paper—or numbers on a computer screen—should determine whether people get food, medicine, housing, vacations, retirement, or the ability to breathe without anxiety.

That feels like a design flaw.

A pretty big one.

Here’s the thing…

I don’t have all the answers.

Hell, I barely know what I’m making for supper half the time.

But I DO know this.

We have got to stop treating each other like garbage.

The world is already hard enough.

Smile at people.

Wave at your neighbors.

Hold the damn door open.

Tell your friends you love them.

Call your parents.

Give strangers grace.

You have absolutely NO idea what battle someone else is fighting while they’re standing in line beside you buying eggs and toilet paper.

And maybe…

Just maybe…

We remind the people in expensive suits that THEY work for US.

Not the other way around.

“We the People” wasn’t meant to become “We the People Who Get Ignored Until Election Season.”

We’re tired.

We’re stressed.

We’re working harder than ever.

We’re doing our best.

And despite ALL of it…

I still believe this is the greatest country on Earth.

Because America isn’t defined by politicians.

America is the mom working two jobs.

It’s the farmer up before sunrise.

It’s the truck driver.

It’s the teacher.

It’s the nurse.

It’s the soldier.

It’s the mechanic.

It’s the waitress.

It’s the factory worker.

It’s the small business owner.

It’s YOU.

The people are what make this country great.

Not the people standing behind podiums pretending they understand what it’s like to live like the rest of us.

So…

HAPPY 250TH BIRTHDAY, AMERICA! 🇺🇸

The land that I love.

The people I love.

The place that’s worth fighting to make better.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go eat another hot dog, watch things explode in the sky, and continue exercising my God-given American right to complain about my government while loving my country.

Because that’s about as patriotic as it gets.