Happy Days are Here Again!

By Jarrett Bellini

I wouldn’t say I’m proud to be an American, but I can certainly admit that I’m rather keen to being one. Maybe it’s just me, but the words pride and happiness have become somewhat confused.

Pride… there seems to be more to that word and to that ideal, something more personal that is being clipped away when we use it so frivolously. By my standards, it suggests something earned and achieved: I’m proud that I trained for a 10K run and managed to finish the race in just under a week.

Clearly, just being born in this country, by virtue of two people making whoopee in the back of a Chevy, doesn’t constitute any great feat on your behalf. You’re happy that these people happened to find Barry White on the radio, and you’re happy that they were drunk on cheap wine, but it wasn’t like you were standing there, coaching them on to greatness in your own conception, as if to say, “Keep going, future-parents! I want to be an American!”

So, maybe we should ease up on our pride. Conversely, you should feel every right to walk around saying how happy you are to live in this wonderful nation: I’m so happy that I live in America, where I can eat Panda Express every day if I want to!

You see, we’ve become so used to the word pride in the context of having appreciation for the United States, that we don’t even blink an eye when somebody says, "By golly, I am proud to be an American." But the rest of the world is noticing. I once met a Scot when I was backpacking in Ecuador who was completely baffled by our overflowing sense of national pride.

“What are you so damn proud about?” he asked.

I had never really thought about it, but was, nevertheless, quick to answer, “Well, we’re proud of our freedom of speech… our freedom of choice… our freedom of religion.”

He paused. “Yeah, we got that, too”

“And aren’t you proud?”

“Not really. I’m happy to have it, but I didn’t do anything.”

He had a point. In the context of his nation’s freedoms, perhaps William Wallace was deserving of pride. But my fellow traveler was just a byproduct of circumstance. In America, by that standard, the founding fathers and soldiers of the American Revolution have earned the right to be proud. As for the rest of us… well, we’re sure glad that that all happened.

But what about the modern American soldier? Aren’t these men and women worthy of pride? Yes, of course. However, their pride stems from knowing that they have defended freedom… something they're really happy to have.

Anyway, I’m sure you get the point. You haven’t been sniffing glue. But you know who has – country music stars. If there is any one group of individuals who will never get this whole pride vs. happiness thing, it’s these redneck, hillbillies with acoustic guitars and bad haircuts. And, seriously, let’s step away from the grammatical dissertation of pride. These guys are just plain ignorant.

Take, for example, the following lyrics from Darryl Worley’s Have You Forgotten?:

“Some say this country’s just out looking for a fight. Well after 9/11, man, I’d have to say that’s right!”

Easy there, Darryl. I mean, if that doesn’t just conjure up images of some pissed-off drunk guy in a tank top with a pool cue and a bottle of bourbon, I don’t know what does. This isn’t a frat party, Mr. Worley. There's a difference between looking for a fight and seeking justice.

And then, there’s the big mama-jama – the guy you don’t want to play Monopoly with because he’s such a jerk. Without further adieu, the lyrical poetry of Mr. Toby Keith:

“Oh, justice will be served and the battle will rage. This big dog will fight when you rattle his cage. You’ll be sorry that you messed with the U.S. of A. ‘Cause we’ll put a boot in your ass. It’s the American way!”

Sorry… if we could just back up there for a moment. We’ll do what? Put a boot in your ass? It’s the American way? What ever happened to: cotton - the fabric of our lives?

Look, I know this rah rah, neo-country, wave-the-flag garbage sells records. I get that. And, just like Worley, Toby Keith's small frontal lobe only allows him to write lyrics in the same vein as a middle-school bully hopped up on Mountain Dew. But consider what kind of image we are projecting to the world when we play a song like Keith’s Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American), just after we bomb a village in Iraq, hitting our target but killing heaps of innocent children. Hey, it’s the American way!

Don’t get me wrong. Something ugly happened here and actions needed to be taken. But let’s try and consider the fact that we still live in a global community, and the opinions of the world do matter. Applied justice with humility, then, is the preferred method. Boastful arrogance is detrimental to the missions and safety of our pawns (er, soldiers). Not to be confused with the great lyricists of country’s past (Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard, and Hank Williams), these idiots are just perpetuating the image of the ignorant, ugly American.

I don’t know, maybe this is the danger of confusing pride with happiness. Anyone who has ever gotten a back massage or, say, a lap dance, knows that joy is fleeting. When your time is up and the song is finished, you start feeling a little down. We’re already programmed to accept that happiness comes and goes. Pride should last forever. That’s why we write bad country songs when we’re no longer happy. Confused, we think our pride is being compromised.

Well, maybe not we, the rational. Just moron country music singers, of which I am not. And for that… I’m proud.

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