Dear "Other" America,
What did we ever do to you? Where exactly are you getting this notion that certain states are more American than others? How certain people are more American. How certain places are more "real." Is this a contest? What do we win? A Walmart gift card and a Bible? Why do you keep talking about "taking back the country." You already have most of it, you greedy jerks.
And do you honestly believe that your America is the real America. Rully? That's funny because I've been to your America before and it beats up my friends, doesn't pay very well, hates other races, hasn't gotten off the couch in 52 years and bashes our gay brothers & sisters. Is your America what the founding fathers had in mind, you fearful donuts? If it is, maybe I am anti-American. Guilty as charged, Bill O. I hate YOUR America.
Before I go off on your America some more, I'd like to tell you a little about MY America. I was born and raised in Des Moines, Iowa. Even as a little girl, I felt a little trapped and underwhelmed by it. I'd like to say it was because I could see through the tree laden facade but now I truly know I must have been brainwashed by the "liberal elite media" masterminds behind Sesame Street and the Electric Company. I don't know about Sesame Street these days but Sesame Street in the seventies was a pretty wild ride. Set to a groovy soundtrack, these furry, radical lefties taught me the value of sharing my toys and embracing other cultures. They also showed me the alphabet and how to ask for water in Spanish. Yeah, that's right.
Agua!
En Español!
AND these Muppets all rode the subway together!!! It ain't easy being green.
You know what else? These pro-immigration socialists lived in New York City! That's right, small town America. These shows took place in New York City. I know. How dare these "big city, elitist, lefty, Marxist Muppet terrorists" show your children how to master the delicate art of cooperation and acceptance. The nerve.
Clearly these shows had a huge influence on me. New York City was what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was obsessed with it. Every creative writing assignment I wrote in grade school took place in New York. I remember telling most of my teachers about my New York dream and the stuff that came out of these narrow minded compulsive liars was so gross.
"People get stabbed on the streets there and nobody helps."
"All New Yorkers are rude."
"Garbage is all over the streets."
"Drugs."
"Poverty."
"You're always stepping on dead people."
Always stepping on dead people? Really?
I wasn't buying it. These people had never even been outside of Des Moines. What did they know about New York? Besides, I'd seen enough Electric Company episodes to realize that New York was a diverse wonderland with friendly people, groovy music and a million ways to say "hello." My teachers were all wrong.
In my wide eyes, anything could happen in New York. It was MY American dream. It's where I wanted to flee to avoid the persecution and ridicule from the other America I was living in. You know, the "real" America. Your America. The America that bullies. The America that is quick to judge. The America that everybody hates. The America that voted for President Bush. TWICE!
Sadly I didn't end up in New York. I ended up someplace even more un-American. A little place called San Francisco.
To give you an idea of the horror and confusion "real" Americans feel toward San Francisco, here's an example:
An idiot male once made a "joke" to my poor mother about how I better be careful "not to catch AIDS from a doorknob there."
Let me get this straight. People in New York are stepping on the dead while people in San Francisco are catching AIDS from doorknobs?
???!!
Is this seriously what the sick, delusional freaks from other America have to say about my America. I'm sorry, but how dare these people put down any of us! How dare they use their religions to justify hate and ignorance! How dare they call themselves real Americans! How dare these racist and uneducated lunatics brag about their values. What values? I don't see the value in not opening up a book that isn't the Bible. I don't see the value of never leaving your small town. I don't see the value of making crass generalizations about a world you've never experienced. I especially don't see any value in judging others because they don't share your skin tone or worship your God. By the way, it's not your God. Just how this isn't your America. It's OUR America and I think it's big enough for the both of us. If you don't agree, maybe we need better education, a civil war and more Sesame Street episodes until you get it right.
In the meantime, I have hope that we can drum together - even though your drumming sounds like shit.