The first time I landed on American soil I came into Boston Logan Airport. It was 1995, and my university friends, Rich, Ant and I arrived without any idea of where we'd stay, or what we were going to do. We came very close to sleeping in a rental car at least once, but we didn't care too much.
Within 50 feet of the door of the plane we arrived in, we had been greeted by the big, smiling face of Bill Clinton.
"Welcome to America!" said the picture of Bill. Within days we'd seen everything: Skyscrapers. Whales. Big Hotels. Everyone saying "How's it going?" Enormous Strawberry Pies. Filene's Basement. Ice Hockey. Being asked for ID in every bar. It was AMAZING!!
I fell in love with America there and then and six years later it wasn't exactly a difficult decision to come and live here. I still vividly remember landing at San Francisco airport and being driven up to the city past signs that said AMAZINGLY EXCITING things like "Los Angeles" and "101". Wow! America! I was back!
That day I rode north to the City on the elevated freeway with Mark (then my boss, now my friend). I gasped as the city skyline came into view. Smiling, Mark said: "If you ever get tired of seeing that view...it's time to leave."
Well, not only have I not left, but I can remember that moment so vividly that it seems impossible that enough time has gone by to have lived in four homes, had three jobs, married Emma, lost two close relatives and joyously become a father. Oh, and I met Bill Clinton too.
But yes, sure enough, it's eight years already.
Anyway, I wanted to mark the occasion with a blog post (obviously) and some auspicious representation of the spirit of my adventure so far.
But then I found this poem, and it seemed much more true to the American spirit the world loves (or loves to hate!). I am especially fond of the spelling of "road" and of the ownership claim made on the Olympic Games and Democracy.
Happy America Birthday me. Here's to the next eight years!
My Country, by Missy Lynn.
Each blade of grass
And every stretch of rode
Everywhere you set foot
Is America
The home in which you build
Whether on mountain or ocean
Whether Hall or hut
Is America
Each Olympic game you see
Every election you vote in
Every NASCAR race you watch
Is America
Each of mom’s apple pies
Each BK burger
Every spot of property you claim
Is America
Every bus stop
Every truck stop
Every tollbooth
Is America
Every slack jawed hick
Every movie hunk
Every Paris Hilton
Is America
Every kegger party
Every hangover morning
Every stupid thing on TV
Is America
Black and Asian,
Hispanic and white
Every color and creed
Is America
Celebrate
That you live in
America
Recent Comments