WE'RE 250 YEARS OLD!
Task 58, July 3 to July 10
“We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.” William Faulkner
Jeff: I have to admit that I haven’t been feeling very patriotic the last few years, and when my wife mentioned the 250th celebrations, I sorta shrugged and muttered, “meh.,” and asked her to get some Hebrew Nationals to grill.
But then came the World Cup—and it wasn’t the American run in the tourney that got my patriotism energized—no, what got me fired up, made me beam with pride and involuntarily cover my heart with hand was the incredible, heartfelt—I will say it—ASTOUNDING reaction of the visitors (overwhelmingly European) to our cities. I won’t try to put it into words—I just encourage you to go Instagram and type in “Scottish Army” or “World Cup ranch dressing”, or “Brits first trip to Costco (or to In n’ Out, or Target, or the best, Bass Pro Shop). You will laugh, cry and probably belt out “America the Beautiful”.
For another more organic look at the beauty of America and it’s people this landmark 4th Of July, I want to share an e-mail that my friend and podcast co-host, Paul C., sent to me. Enjoy.
I still remember the Bicentennial in 1976. I was a sixteen-year-old in Seattle, newly armed with a driver’s license and happily cruising with no place in particular to go. On television, Bicentennial Minutes gave Americans a daily “CliffsNotes” version of our nation’s history, reminding us where we’d come from.
Ironically, I knew very little of the country I called home.
I’d spent time in England and Belgium because of my father’s overseas assignments, but in America I’d never been farther east than Los Angeles. As a kid, I often wished my dad had been transferred to somewhere in America instead of another country. I wanted to see the United States, not just read about it.
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Well, it took years—but I have explored almost every nook and cranny of the country, and what I’ve seen—experienced…is incredible.
In the early ‘90s, television production (I worked for MTV) became my passport to America. Suddenly I was working all over the country—from Alaska and Puerto Rico to the Badlands of South Dakota, from Florida to Colorado, Kansas, Georgia, Oregon, and so many places in between.
Then, in 2019, after a lifetime in television, I became a flight attendant—a career I never imagined I’d have. Looking back now, I realize it wasn’t just another job. It was an opportunity to finally experience America in an even deeper, profound way than I did as a tv producer.
Three to six days a week I flew from city to city, meeting hundreds of people every day. I quickly realized that every flight had its own personality. Dallas to Orlando wasn’t the same as Indianapolis to Cancún. Minneapolis to Denver wasn’t the same as Sacramento to Seattle.
More importantly, the people weren’t the same—and that’s exactly what made the experience so special.
Young and old. Rich and poor. Black, white, and brown. Conservatives and liberals. Every faith, every background, every walk of life. The people I met reminded me that America has never been about everyone being the same. It’s about millions of different stories somehow sharing the same country.
The places became memories too.
During COVID I rode a Buffalo city bus to Niagara Falls. I’ve wandered through New Orleans cemeteries. I’ve watched the Kings play in Sacramento and the Rockies in Denver. I’ve walked the Mall of America, had a proper cheez-burger in Chicago, ate lobster in New England, and sampled bourbon in Kentucky.
Today I’ve been fortunate enough to visit 47 states. Only West Virginia, North Dakota and Maine remain.
For someone who spent his childhood wishing he could see America instead of living overseas, that’s something I never take for granted.
The greatest gift wasn’t checking states off a map. It was meeting the people who live in them.
They reminded me that despite all the noise, headlines, politics, and differences, we’re still one country. Imperfect? Absolutely. But also incredibly diverse, resilient, generous, and endlessly fascinating.
America... what a country.
Happy 250th Birthday.
And if you’ve never wandered very far beyond your ZIP code, your city, or even your state, I hope someday you will. The America waiting just down the road may surprise you.
It certainly surprised me.
Task: Hit the road, Jack!