America turns 250 years old this week.
That’s old and young at the same time.
We’re basically that guy at the family reunion who’s excited about turning 25 while Egypt is sitting in the corner saying, “That’s cute.”
Some civilizations have been around for thousands of years. We’re only 250. We’re still figuring things out.
Matter of fact, Thomas Jefferson probably never imagined we’d celebrate the Declaration of Independence by buying fireworks from a tent beside a highway and eating hot dogs until somebody’s uncle falls asleep in a lawn chair.
Speaking of uncles, can we talk about dads on the Fourth of July?
Every dad suddenly becomes master of the grill. This man hasn’t cooked since Labor Day.
But on July 4th?
He’s outside in New Balances or leather sandals with the buckle strap, tube socks pulled up to his knees, standing over the grill like he’s protecting Fort Knox.
You ask if the burgers are ready.
He doesn’t answer.
He just pokes one with a spatula and says, “Another minute.”
Sir… it’s a hot dog.
And everybody knows that one person who insists on lighting the fireworks. Not because they’re qualified. Because they watched three YouTube videos and now they think they work for NASA.
Every year somebody says, “Back up!”
That’s never reassuring.
Neither are mosquitoes.
I don’t know what America did to deserve mosquitoes, but they celebrate Independence Day harder than we do. They’re out there eating everybody equally.
That’s diversity.
One thing America has done well is invent stuff — airplanes, the internet, supermarket warehouses so big they have their own ZIP code.
Somebody pushes a button in Columbia, and somehow a Pop-Tart shows up in Ridgeway two days later. That’s impressive.
Cap’n Crunch? Also ours. Granted, the man spends more time cutting the roof of your mouth than feeding you, but still.
Innovation.
We’ve had all kinds of presidents steering this ship. Some calm. Some loud. Some made history. Some made headlines.
No matter who’s at the wheel, America somehow keeps floating.
Kind of like that shopping cart with one bad wheel that still makes it through Walmart.
And somehow we’ve become convinced we’re Number One at everything.
Basketball? Obviously.
Olympic gold medals? Run ’em.
Baseball? Absolutely.
The World Cup? Now, we’re working on that.
But confidence has never been our problem. Show me another country bold enough to look around and say, “We’re Number One!” Even when nobody asked. That’s commitment.
I love that about us. We’ve made mistakes. We’ve made incredible progress. We’ve welcomed people from all over the world who brought their food, traditions, music, languages, and dreams. That’s one of America’s greatest strengths.
And somehow all those different stories became one story. Right here.
Even our little corner of Fairfield County has its own reminder of history. The Winnsboro Town Clock has been keeping time for well over a century. It’s watched generations come and go. Not quite as old as America but old enough to have seen a whole lot.
So this Fourth of July, enjoy the cookout. Wave at your neighbors. Watch some baseball or the World Cup. Eat too much. Swat a mosquito. Thank the person who remembered to bring the ice.
And if somebody tells you America isn’t the greatest country in the world, well…ask them who’s gonna tell us we’re not.
Kenny Robertson, an educator and comedian, is a native of Ridgeway.