Yesterday was a migraine-palooza, and today I’m feeling pretty wiped out, so today’s Patriot Journey is going to be a link:

10 things to celebrate: Why I’m an anti-anti-American

In other news, we have — or rather, Anxiety has — new pets, a hamster named Nibbles (because he bites) and 2 gerbils with outlandish names that I can’t recall just now. The gerbils are so damned cute, and silky soft …too bad they’re too small to make a good fur coat. And all the birthday presents I got were wonderful! They included a set of nifty chrome bookends, a set of hilarious to-do list pads with magnetic backs so you can hang them on your fridge (my favorite says at the top of each page: “This is Fucking Urgent”), an Au Lait (still my favorite scent — I just wish they made cologne!) collection in a nifty milkcan tin, the first season of Hex on DVD (now on American DVD release!), and Lyse promised me the first season of Stargate SG-1 as soon as we find a store in town that actually has it in stock (we checked 3 places Monday night, to no avail).

Yes indeedy, I’m the same age as Silly String. Somehow this is horribly appropriate.

Today I turned 29 (for the ninth time).

It really sucks to get up at 5am on your birthday, but better to be getting up for an early day at work than the alternative of not working! (I’m seriously grateful for the employment opportunities available to me in the United States.) After working 8 hours, I spent some time in that great American institution, the Department of Motor Vehicles, renewing my driver’s license (the photo makes me look old & tired…must be a special kind of film the DMV uses). Then I grabbed a Starbucks coffee — another great American tradition (more or less) — on the way to the bus stop, so I’d be awake past 7pm. My birthday dinner will be very patriotic…as least as far as it’ll consist of many chunks of grilled American beef, shish kebob style.

And, a la Forrest Gump (a great American movie!), that’s all I have to say about that.

There was a very early (and very boring) mandatory quarterly meeting at work today. As I struggled to keep awake, I thought about the fact that the company I work for probably has the widest diversity of any employer in the state. Those who work for the company come from dozens of countries, and every continent (other than Antarctica!) on Earth.

America has always embraced those who were willing to adopt this nation as their own, and become part of the “melting pot” that the United States has been described as. On the Statue of Liberty (it’s true name is far more elegant: Liberty Enlightening the World), part of the poem on the interior of the pedestal (titled The New Colossus, by Emma Lazarus) reads:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!

Remembering and celebrating one’s heritage is important and honorable (I’m quite proud of my Norwegian and Scots-Irish heritage, and I encourage my girls to take pride in their Russian and German heritage, respectively). But assimilating into the society you willingly choose to become part of is important and honorable, as well. To accept the privileges and rights of American citizenship, you must also accept the responsibilities and duties of being an American; to do otherwise is hypocritical. Theodore Roosevelt wisely said:

In the first place, we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this is predicated upon the person’s becoming in every facet an American, and nothing but an American…There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn’t an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag… We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language… and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people.

Diversity means respecting a person’s creed, birthplace, or origin — but not before or above the American heritage that person has chosen. Some of the most proudly American people I know (including my stepmother) weren’t born or raised in this country, and didn’t become Americans until adulthood — and that helps remind me of how wonderful the diversity in America can be.

Country & western music is uniquely American, and I can’t help but like (at least some of) it. There never was a troubadour better than Johnny Cash. Matter-of-fact honesty about women’s trials and emotions in song was pioneered by greats such as Patsy Cline and Loretta Lynn. These days, I can’t help but enjoy the sassy attitudes in the music of the Dixie Chicks and Carrie Underwood. The last country song that I heard made me laugh harder than I had in weeks!

I grew up on country music — it was all I listened to until I got into high school, and my “bad influence” best friend Brenda introduced me to hard rock. These days, I don’t listen to a lot of country (unless Lyse or my eldest is in charge of the music), but when I do, it nearly always manages to be heart-touching or spirit-lifting.

It almost makes me want to learn the Texas Two-Step. *grin*

Americans are clever, innovative, and more than a bit wacky. Consider these oddball attractions, which personify the extreme strangeness that often occurs in the American sense of humor and/or sense of wonder — the wildly wacky of America:

• Largest twine balls
• Smallest churches
• NASA’s “Shuttle Launch Experience” (pretend to go to space via those who really put people in space)
• The (very un-PC) Wigwam Village Motel
• Perfect zoo for my beloved Geoffrey: Predator World
• The Good Riddance Rajneesh plaque (in my very own state!)
• A combination furniture store/theme park — and yet another one!
• A wide variety of 45th Parallel markers (yes, we have one in Oregon…it’s just a standard green freeway sign along I-5)
• Sputnik Crashed Here!
• Largest homemade Star Wars X-Wing Fighter
• More very not-PC stuff: National Great Blacks in Wax museum
• World’s Longest Single Arch Steel Span Bridge — once a year, they actually encourage people to jump off it!

Hundreds (thousands?) of Portlanders cheerfully display “Keep Portland Weird” bumper stickers on their car (I have one!)…maybe it’s not just Portland. Anyway, I love American wackyness.

I didn’t make a Patriot’s Journey post yesterday, due to a combination of the spawn requiring the computer (to finish her 8th-grade portfolio, which included her fabulous 8th-grade speech and a ton of other nifty stuff), and the overwhelming exhaustion I experienced at getting up before 4am to be at work by 5am…and then not napping when I got home. But tomorrow I don’t have to be at work until 10pm, so I promised myself I’d blog today no matter how tired I am. Because my constitutional right to free speech is one of my favorite things about America.

The First Amendment of the United States constitution is really quite remarkable.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Damn, that’s sexy. Shiny. Exquisite. Phenomenal. Choose whatever extremely-positive adjective you like, and say it as much as you like, because the government isn’t allowed to shut you up. Let’s look at that particular part of it:

Congress shall make no law abridging the freedom of speech

Wow. I doubt that most Americans have any concept of just how amazing that concept is to most people in most other countries, or how unthinkable it was to most of the world’s population throughout history.

Of course, there’s a flip side…as Hubert H. Humphrey said, “The right to be heard does not automatically include the right to be taken seriously.” (Or, in snarkier parlance, “The fact that no one understands you does not make you an artist!”) Freedom of speech has natural consequences — and that’s a good thing!

One thing I love about America is our public library system, with more than 117,000 libraries in the United States. In the county I live in, anyone with a library card can access the libraries in 3 counties, totaling about one quarter of Oregon’s population! Library cards are free and easy to obtain almost everywhere in the US. In most library systems, if a book you want is not available at your local branch, it can be ordered for pick-up at the nearest library or sometimes even mailed directly to your home for a very modest fee.

Unfortunately, libraries are quite possibly the most under-utilized public resource. Most people probably don’t realize that you can check out movies, music, magazines, and other media (as well as books, of course) in many libraries! Most branches also have free Internet access, and often conference rooms are available to reserve — free or very cheaply — for meetings of clubs and other organizations. The American Library Association also has an extensive variety of awards, scholarships, and grants. Many other free programs, community services and resources are available at most American libraries…and of course libraries support freedom of speech and intellectual freedom by making controversial publications available to the public, and by promoting the wonderful program Banned Books Week: Free People Read Freely.

In some cultures, wealth is worn as jewelry or other physical adornments. In some cultures, wealth is counted as the number of wives a man has, or the number of cattle/goats/etc he has in his herd. In some cultures, wealth is reflected in how fat a person is, or how fair their skin is, as these are signs the person does not have to spend many hours in daily toil outdoors in the sun to earn their keep.

I recently figured out that, to my subconscious, food is wealth. I adore those fancy decorative bottles of oil with vegetables and herbs that are strictly designed to look nice on your kitchen counter or windowsill. I love buying in bulk, or during case sales, so that my cupboards are near to bursting. I have a set of 6 clear glass rectangular jars on my kitchen counter, filled with rice and a variety of pasta and fancy tea bags and any other non-perishable foodstuffs that are appealing to the eye. I like to glance into my kitchen and see food; it makes me feel safe, secure, and vaguely wealthy. Because there have been times in my life when my cupboards were nearly desolate, or I had to choose whether to spend my last few dollars on milk or on gas for the car so I could get to work, and I became very familiar with food banks and other food assistance programs.

In the United States, no adult goes hungry unless he or she chooses to do so. In every large city (and most smaller ones), there are missions and other charities that provide at least one decent meal a day to the hungry. There are food banks nearly everywhere in the US. For young children and pregnant women, there is the WIC program (which I was on, while pregnant with each of my girls). For most who live near or under the income mandated as federal poverty level, foodstamp benefits are available, as well as “government surplus food” (the stereotypical “guv’mint cheese”). Many rural areas have a gleaners program, and most communities (as well as many businesses) have programs to deliver food baskets to the needy during the holidays.

In some countries, people routinely starve to death…and nobody really seems to care much, other than the loved ones of the victims. But America, described throughout its history as a “land of milk and honey,” doesn’t allow that to happen. Amongst adults, only the abjectly ignorant (and/or stupid) who aren’t aware of hunger assistance programs, or the overweeningly prideful who refuse to participate in those programs, could starve here. It’s a very good thing indeed.

A wonderful thing about the USA is the variety of natural beauty. The lush tropics of Hawaii, the fertile plains of the Midwest, the swamps of the Southeast, the rugged Rocky mountains, the vast wilderness of Alaska, the deserts & mesas of the Southwest…there’s something for everyone, and it’s all part of nature’s wondrous glory.

Of course my favorite is the Pacific Northwest, particularly northern Oregon (where I live). Right in Portland, I have the remains of a volcano (Mt. Tabor), a glorious river (the Willamette), and thousands of gorgeous colors in the abundant trees in our city (which, due to the inadequacy of the English language, are mostly called “green”). Just over an hour’s drive away are the Cascade mountains, and less than two hours’ drive away are the beaches of the magnificent Oregon coast (which has no private beaches). If I were to suddenly crave the high desert, eastern Oregon is only a few hours away.

Conservationists have worked for many decades to protect the USA’s natural wonders, and rightly so. The bounty of nature in America is most certainly one of the best things about this nation!

This morning I happened to be in line at the convenience store behind one of our local law enforcement officers. He and the cashier were chatting about the weather as his purchases were rung up, and he mentioned that people tend to get rather more unruly during the summer, as if tempers heat up along with the weather. During a break in the conversation I couldn’t resist suggesting (somewhat wryly) that I bet he just loves the Rose Festival (that special time of year when downtown Portland becomes Chaos Central).

His reply was priceless — “Oh yeah, I love it,” he replied totally deadpan, with just the barest hint of rolling eyes before cracking just the slightest sarcastic grin. “Especially working the Starlight parade and the Grand Floral parade on what were going to be my days off.” It made me smile every time I happened to recall it during the rest of the day.

I love the police. And I’m entirely sincere about that. Every interaction I’ve had with law enforcement — whether it was being ticketed for failure to yield after totaling my car as a 17-year-old, being horribly embarrassed as they brought my wandering 4-year-old home, or being shown generosity and respect as they took the time and effort to drive me out to the remote site where they found my husband’s remains and answer all my difficult questions honestly — has been handled positively, even if the circumstances were personally unhappy for me.

In the United States, the police often have very hazardous and thankless duty, but in my experience the vast majority of American law enforcement are honest, hard-working, and under-appreciated. In a nation where criminals are innocent until proven guilty, all too many people are ready to believe that the cops are not the good guys (and gals!)…and that’s incredibly sad. They are the people putting their asses on the line, for the good of the rest of us, 24/7. But they’re very definitely one of the things that make America great.