July 3, 2007
CNN Headline News blasts on several plasma TVs overhead. The newscasters yammer on and on about car bombs and the war on terror. I am in Houston’s International airport, waiting for my connecting flight back to LAX.
Tomorrow our nation will celebrate its 231st birthday, and I couldn’t be less proud of my country. This year there will be no birthday cake, no presents, no fireworks, no nothing!
I left Prague this morning (Berlin five days ago), and I long to start this day again, to miss my flight, and to delay coming back to my native country. Unfortunately, as I wait for my boarding call, I am forced to begin the process of re-entry. I just didn’t think it would be this hard.
A few days ago I thought being around Americans would be comforting, but it’s not. The Americans I see are loud, unsophisticated, overweight, and obnoxious. I see only their shameless ignorance, their blatant disregard for foreign relationships, and their hollow pride.
Take, for example, the two red headed sisters I sat next to on my flight from Paris to Houston. These two American girls wanted nothing to do with me, even after I managed to squeak out the obligatory “Hi … I’m sitting next to you” smile before take off. No smile back, no warm welcome, nothing.
I thought maybe it was me, until I realized they were happy to display their snotty, bratty attitudes throughout the entire 9 hour flight to everyone on the plane. They ignored the stewardesses as they asked about food and drinks, thumbed their IPODS as their parents tried to speak to them, and flipped through magazines as people stepped over them to get to the open aisle. These girls represent everything wrong with American culture, I thought.
So when our plane landed in Houston, and after I unpacked my bags from the overhead compartment, I was happy to turn my back and rip one stinky fart in their faces as I marched up the aisle toward the exit.
Still not even my revenge on those two brats can take away from my anxiety about re-entering “my country tis of thee.” But there’s nothing like the smell of sulphur and apple pie to bring one back to reality, so here’s to you, America!
Happy 4th of July!