A More Perfect Union

""Let us be lovers, we'll marry our fortunes together. I've got some real estate here in my bag". So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies and walked off to look for America" Simon and Garfunkel from "America"

For some reason, fireworks are banned here in the Asylum. It might have something to do with the pyromaniacs in the L wing, but the 4th of July here is pretty much just your average day of medication that makes the lights look like the brightest bursting American Freedom projectiles you've ever seen. Though we don't get the big bang, it's still a day to think about what it means to be America.

There is one place that makes me feel more American than any other. No, it's not Mount Rushmore, or Gettysburg, as a matter of fact, it wouldn't be considered a tourist destination at all. It's in every town, in every state, all across this vast expanse that most of us call home, many of you Aussie readers are probably chocking on the patriotism but bear with me. This magical location that stirs the old red, white, and blue in me is the grocery store.

I know, it doesn't make sense. But think about it. Walk into the frozen food section of your local Piggly Wiggly and you'll see display cases, plural, full of frozen pizza. With various toppings and cooking methods. Microwaveable, oven ready, meat, veggie, supreme, mini, maxi, all sorts. It's overwhelming. And seeing the gross amount of Italian pastry that we can stuff in our gobs makes me a little squishy for apple pie and Chevrolet. Interesting side note, Apple Pie, originally a French or Dutch dish depending on which website you choose to believe.

As I stroll through the market, my eyes are bewildered by the copious amounts of beef, pork, chicken, ostrich, bear, fish, marmot, and wildebeast that we have at our disposable for consumption. Think some pot bellied kid in Ethiopia is fighting Sally Struthers to the check out stand with a 10 pound box of Big Ben Burgers under one arm and a melon the size of Pam Anderson's brain, no way you saw that coming, under the other arm? Of course not. There are no super markets in Rwanda and there's no melon as small as the Blonde ones cranial cram. It's American to not only shop with a cart the size of a European car but to fill it with incredible amounts of processed foods that could survive nuclear obliteration.

Turning towards the 10 items or less express check out line with your cart over flowing with meats, frozen pizza and melon, it's impossible to not at least check out the greatest item available at the Vons. Tabloids. It makes me feel like an elite citizen to check out these rags and wonder how many people in the market at that very moment are going to consider what they read on the covers to be news. And for some, their only source of news. Amazing to me that people who can't find Canada on a map, know that Brad and Angelina have kids named Shiloh and Maddox. It's one of the few things that make me proud to be an American.

On this 4th of July, what makes you feel American? If you're from somewhere else, how do you percieve Americans?

Dixie Cup of Love: The Stater Bros.