America: Red, White and Awesome

by ANDREW CLINE
edited by ANDREW HICKS

—

Ben Franklin looks so terse and condescending on the hundred-dollar bill, like "You're spending me on WHAT?!"

There’s an old joke that goes along the lines of “What’s black and white and red all over?” and the answer is, “A sunburnt zebra.” Well, guess what? No. It’s not. Even if a zebra somehow miraculously were to get sunburnt, the red wouldn’t show through its fur. That joke’s a crock.

A more appropriate joke would be, “What’s red, white, blue, and awesome all over?” and the answer would be “America.” More comedians should start off with that joke and stop telling racy stories about their unholy bedroom antics. But really, no, that wouldn’t work, because it’s not a joke. It’s the undisputed truth. America is awesome.

America, according to a recent survey, is the oldest and best country on Earth, and we didn’t get that reputation just because we invented the lightbulb, fundamentalist Christianity and Pizza Hut. We got it because we’re awesome at everything.

Did you know that the first rainbow ever appeared in 1647 in Springfield, Mass.? And that Ben Franklin coined the term “kickin’ it” in a 1736 edition of Poor Richard’s Almanack? Simple truths like these are what separate this country from third-world nations like France and Canada, whose respective languages don’t even have a word for “freedom.” And that’s just sad.

So next time you ever hear that old joke, “What’s black and white and red all over?” just smile and say, “A sunburnt zebra. And America’s the greatest planet in the whole universe.”

Six Flags/Applebee’s Tornado Lockdown

by ANDREW HICKS

This is about as close as I got to the action at Six Flags pre-tornado sirens.

It was too good to be true. We got to Six Flags at 1:30 — me, my wife, my stepson and my two kids in diapers — and there were only three rows of cars in the entire parking lot. There were only like 20 yellow school buses, which I knew would mean a tiny fraction of the usual multitude of high school kids dribbling prize basketballs in roller coaster lines.

We got a spot in the front row, four spaces from the aisle. My older kid had fallen asleep as we entered the parking lot, so we hatched a quick scheme. I’d stay at the car with the little girl sleeping and the little boy chewing on toys, while my wife and stepson would go in the park, ride the amazing compact wooden roller coaster just inside the entrance and come back out to tag-team me in to go ride the same. In theory, by the time that cycle was complete, the little girl would wake up from her power nap, and we’d all go in together.

That cycle did not reach completion. Wife and stepson rode the wooden coaster — they were the only ones on the ride, and they had the option to stay on and ride again and again — but when they got back to the car, the Six Flags P.A. system was crackling about tornado watches and storm shelters. The only attraction I got to experience was the Talk To The Fat Security Guard In The Parking Lot ride.