It’s unfortunate that a glorious holiday that is supposed to be about laying out on the beach, getting burnt, and winning hot dog eating contests has turned into something so ugly and so misunderstood. Sure the Fourth of July is a day to celebrate our independence as well as our American pride, but that doesn’t mean that it’s an excuse to desecrate the colors red, white, and blue in such a horrible fashion.

So in a striking contrast to the phenomenal fireworks display you’re going to see this weekend, we present to you American patriotism gone horribly wrong.

[Click on the photos to see appropriate (and awesome) examples of patriotism.]

I think I finally understand why so many people hate America….

Lady Liberty wouldn't be caught dead in a fanny pack

Patriotism is kicking into high gear as our Nation celebrates its big birthday today.  Suddenly, the crowds on the streets look like they got lost on their way to a (slightly chubby) reproduction of an American flag-themed musical.  With fanny packs…lots of fanny packs.

In contrast to the more traditional elements of American style (bedazzled jean jackets, tie dye and reverse fit denim), people are going all out to show their love and support for this great nation. In the form of sequins. But is an American flag parachute jacket really the way to show someone, especially our forefathers, you care?

I don’t know about you, but it’s things like this that make me question my pride in America. I know this is the land of the free, but shouldn’t we be free of fashion like this?

Sometimes, I have to admit, I feel defective. People I hardly know forward me e-mails about supporting U.S. troops and flying American flags proudly, and I quietly delete them. It’s not that I hate my country. It’s just that I’ve never really felt any affection for it . . . until now.

I’m not about to get up on a soapbox and give some grand speech about how Barack Obama is The Chosen One or how a liberal president makes everything better. But even when I set aside my political views and think about where our country is now, I still feel kind of inspired. For the first time in my life, I feel as if things could be steady and reasonable. I feel we have a leader who is working toward security and happiness and who is competent in the best way possible. In short, I feel we have a leader who cares.

I’m fine with people who don’t feel that way, and I’m well aware that Obama’s presidency could be a disaster—it is still the early days, of course. But to borrow a politician’s turn of phrase, it seems as if there’s hope out there. Now, when I think about American troops, I feel that they’re actually fighting for something. They’re fighting to defend a country in which I finally take pride. It’s a completely alien feeling for me, and I’m still getting used to it. I’ve never felt any connection with America, but that’s changing . . . gradually.

So for now, I feel proud. When I think about the Fourth of July this Saturday, it actually has meaning for me. Sure, I’ll go to the usual barbecues and watch the fireworks (which are on July 3rd in my town—WTF?), but there will be something buzzing beneath the surface for me as well. This holiday, which has never had any meaning for me before, finally will. And that’s pretty cool.

As millions flock to Washington for the inauguration, many of us prefer (or were forced) to stay at home and not be part of the mad rush of people that will surely cause all of the highways around D.C. and the surrounding states to be jam-packed with people and cars (I’ve had enough with the crowding during the Olympics to last a lifetime). But just because you’re not on the scene doesn’t mean you can’t be with the scene!

There are plenty of other people around who didn’t make the trek to D.C., so have a party! It may be last minute, but there is still plenty of time to gather your friends and a little patriotism together for a killer Proud to be An American bash.

Here are some fun ways for you to celebrate being in American – red, white, and blue style.

Decorate: Now is the perfect time to whip out your old Fourth of July gear and host the best inauguration-watching party ever! Turn your living room into an American flag: blow up balloons, hang  flags on the wall, spread a red tablecloth and set out little blue napkins.

Costumes: Aren’t costume parties the best? Encourage your guests to dress up as their favorite political figure and award to the best-dressed and best-impersonation (cigar, anyone?) with an American favorite: a 30 pack of cheap beer.

FOOD! You can take the easy route with some red, white and blue foods, like watermelon, blueberries and cottage cheese, or you can whip up something patriotic:

• Name foods after fun themes such as “Campaign Trail Mix,” “Sloppy Joe Bidens,” “Barack of Ribs,” “Chicken Right Wings,” or, my personal favorite, “Lipstick Pigs In A Blanket.”
• Make some RW&B Popsicles. Just get any type of juice in all three colors (I like using kool-aid) and some dixie cups and popsicle sticks. Pour the red juice into each cup to about 1/3 full, then freeze until it’s almost frozen but still a little slushy. Insert a popsicle stick into the middle, then pour the white juice in until it’s 2/3 full. Freeze it again, then add the blue juice. Freeze one more time, peel the cups off, and – voila! – patriotism on a stick.
• Want to be more like Obama? Make chili, one of his favorite foods!

Play Some Games: Baseball isn’t called America’s pastime for nothing. Go outside (bundled in scarves and thick jackets, I hope) and toss a few around. I’m sure you could figure out a way to turn that into a drinking game. If baseball isn’t your thing, go shoot some hoops. Instead of playing Horse, though, make it a game of Donkey. Or Obama. Or See Ya Later, Bush! Or, if it’s too cold out, just play a game of  Obama Speech Bingo. Our bet’s on the word “change” getting the most chips.

American Karaoke: Sure, karaoke is usually reserved for Meatloaf and The Outfield, but this is a God Bless America party! Break out the old American faves like Yankee Doodle and God Bless America. Beyonce may have had to perform in front of billions of people, including the president, but you just have to sing in front of your friends, so belt it out shamelessly.

Watch a Movie: Throw in an old American action flick, like The Patriot, Saving Private Ryan, or Black Hawk Down. (Because nothing says I Love America quite like Josh Hartnett. Mmmm.) Or, if you want laughter instead of tears, watch some hilarious youtube videos of past presidents. Shoes not included.

Be proud and celebrate being an American on this great day in U.S. history. You betcha I sure am.

Did you watch the presidential debate last Friday night?  We did (and we included some good friends, two bottles of wine, and double-stuff Oreos), and even though we tried very hard, a lot of what was said was hard to follow — especially since both McCain and Obama would not. stop. SMIRKING while their opponent was talking.  Those “my opponent is ridiculous” smiles were plain ridiculous.

Practiced grins and political doublespeak notwithstanding, something that a lot of people were talking about this weekend was the issue of John McCain refusing to look at Barack during the entire debate.  While Obama kept his gaze on the camera, on the moderator, and on John, McCain just couldn’t seem to bring himself to look Obama in the eye.

Some political analysts are saying McCain completely disrespected Obama, “dismissing” him multiple times as well as keeping his eyes anywhere but on the Senator’s face.  What do you think? Did you watch the debate? (If not, catch it HERE) Did you notice this?  How would you interpret McCain’s tactic?

[photo from LATimes.com]

An Internet programmer (or…whoever) in the McCain camp seems to be pretty sure of a few things.  The small ad appeared this morning, and while we’re too tired right now to make any snarky jokes, we will admit that nothing says I AM AWESOME like an American flag background.

I am not easily intimidated by guys. While I wouldn’t say that I have them completely figured out, I am confident with myself and with them to the point that I can talk to nearly any type of guy in any situation. Except for one.

Male strippers.

I had no idea that I was actually afraid of them until the night of the sloppy second – which was at Lucky Cheng’s. My friends and I had planned a night of bad food (seriously, I heard that the food there sucks) and a fabulous “dragdoll” wait staff. But instead of fabulousity, we learned that 1) they do not serve dinner on Fridays and 2) we would instead be watching a male review.

One of my friends and I wanted to leave but we were out voted and I panicked as we were led behind the curtain into a smallish room filled with sweat, humidity and about 75 women, half of whom were screaming at the mostly naked guys as though they were having the most fun ever.

Those guys not only smell your fear – they seem to be drawn to it. They loved our collective panic (at least mine and my friend’s) so much that they put our group on stage for the remainder of the show. This was all before I had adequate time to even get a little buzzed to help me deal with the situation.

Now, I’m not afraid of penis. But I am afraid of feeling like I have no control and since I know and hate the feeling of being objectified, I was uncomfortable being in the position to do the objectifying. And as one stripper (who was admittedly pretty hot), gave me some weird lap dance, I felt the need to humanize him. The only way for me to do that was to talk to him.

I sat on a chair with my hands glued to my sides and averted my eyes from his body. “So, uh, do you like your job?”

He moved his crotch, which was covered by an American flag thong, too close to my face and he said, “Well, I love it right now.”

My mouth was closed really tightly and I forgot to breathe. I finally answered, “Cool. So could you, like, stop doing your job on me?”

He laughed and got off of me. My friend gave me a dollar and I jokingly put it in my bra strap. (Side bar: I showed up with a $20. No singles. You never, never, never want to ask anyone there for change there. Ever.) He took the bill with his mouth. Then somehow the mouth was on my breast. On a stage, in front of my friends and quite a few strangers. I pushed him off of me. At least he was hot. (Another side bar: don’t wear your cleavage shirts to a strip club, especially if you are as naïve as I am and will try to pull a joke like that).

At the end of the night, one guy dressed like a Native American (i.e. boots with fringe and a matching thong with fringe) and another guy dressed like a cop started talking to me (as in what’s your name, where do you go to school – like real questions) and asking me what my friends and I were doing later on.

(God, this is funnier in retrospect. At the time I wondered if I was actually living it and not dreaming that 2/5 of the Village People Redux were talking to me).

I couldn’t talk to them because they were mostly naked and I couldn’t understand how they could be almost like confidence vampires.

So while I wanted to un-objectify them, I couldn’t because they were wearing thongs and talking to me as though they were fully clothed and everything were normal.

After that night, I let myself be dragged to another night of sweaty boys in thongs. Again, they smelled my fear but this time, instead of touching me, one of them made me put my hands on his ass.

There was stubble.

So that did two things for me – it made me not quite as scared to go back to one of those places again if I had to and it made the experience like 4% less intimidating.

I guess you can’t get more human than stubble on the ass.