This past weekend, I wondered by an Old Navy. Just to be clear, I am talking about the store, not a group of aged sailors. I don’t usually run in the same circles as them.
Inside the store, I saw it. There, piled and stacked in the midst of pre-distressed jeans and polo shirts, sat one of the signs of summer.
Old Navy’s patriotic t-shirts are out.
For those who have never been to Old Navy (again, the store), every year ye Ol’ Naval puts out a new shirt with an American flag on it. These shirts are perfect for wearing your patriotism right there on your chest so no one can even question your love for America. The only thing more patriotic is Lee Greenwood belting out “God Bless the U.S.A.” That and child pageants. I don’t think any other country enjoys small children in makeup as much as us.
Now, naturally when I saw this, I began to panic. I had completely neglected my Independence Day preparations, choosing instead to celebrate the age old American tradition of apathy. Now, with only one week left, I have not done anything to prepare. That leaves me only seven days to:
-Buy illegal fireworks
-Dry clean my Uncle Sam suit
-Make my latest The Reddest, Whitest and Bluest Tunes mix on my iPod (First song: “I’m Just a Bill.” Nothing explains American government like talking paper).
-Bake forty to fifty apple pies
-Binge eat forty to fifty apple pies
-Begin my Sylvester Stallone-a-thon (He is the biggest American hero, after all).
-Take a nap (All of that other stuff will make me very tired).
-Run in circles for an hour screaming “USA! USA! USA! USA!”
Now, how in the world am I going to fit all of this in around my regularly scheduled routine of snacking and complaining about summer television programming? I mean, I’ve been watching this channel for the last six hours and have barely been entertained at all.
Every year, it seems July Fourth brings with it new stresses. Last year, for example, I was attempting to do my patriotic duty as I do every year, but I couldn’t for the life of me find a copy of Rocky V, one of the most patriotic Rocky movies in existence. At the last second I was able to find a script and act it out with action figures. Oddly enough, they acted it out better than Stallone.
I was almost able to skip worrying about the holiday this year. Over the weekend, an asteroid came very near to the Earth. By near, I mean within 7,600 miles, but that is still a bit closer then I like most asteroids.
I was hoping for contact so that everyone would be distracted and forget about proving our love for the middle portion of North America (The top and bottom are rubbish). It was so close, I could almost feel the dramatic music that usually accompanies asteroids when the Earth is in peril, at least in the movies. At the last second, though, Bruce Willis and Ben Affleck must have saved the Earth because instead of utter destruction, I find myself still having to secure sticks of dynamite disguised as a firework called “The Destructifier,” all so I won’t let down George Washington and his stupid wooden teeth.
With all of this stress, it’s easy to get distracted from the real meaning of the Fourth of July. Who can forget that in 1776, George Washington shot fireworks at the British until they recited the Pledge of Allegiance. Afterwards, they all ate watermelon and apple pie while staring at a flag waving majestically in the breeze.
Okay, I’m not too sure what happened in 1776. I haven’t looked it up.
After all, I’m very busy.