The Good Old US of A

While watching the Olympics last week with my 13 year old daughter (who would be 18 if she were competing in China), I mentioned how glad I was to live in the good old USA. That people may travel to exotic lands and places, but even when vacationing, sometimes the very best times are right here in our own wonderful land.

And, even when friends try to convince me otherwise, I remind them that it is always best when things are done just the way I think they should be. Like when a very close friend just spent several days in Italy and called upon his return to tell of all the wonderful things he had done in the land of my ancestors. I patiently listened, but couldn’t help raising my nose a bit, because during the same week, my family had vacationed in Hot Springs. I failed to see how he could even compare the two.

He told of wonderful foods he had eaten during his trip. That our own Italian food paled in comparison. I said he better never tell my mother, or that will be the last meatball sandwich she ever makes him. Assuring me her meatballs were better than anything in Europe, and please don’t tell her, he went on to say that he didn’t eat at quite as many restaurants as he had hoped. During his conference he was forced to eat hotel food.

I didn’t see why this should matter. Hotel food in Italy, is still Italian food. Prepared by Italian cooks. Just like if an Italian were vacationing here and staying at the Hampton Inn. Their continental breakfast has fantastic blueberry muffins. Any European visitor should be happy to breakfast every morning by spreading butter on a really giant American muffin. I, personally, love hotel muffins. And also that little machine that you can make your own waffles on? Things don’t get better than that. Hot muffins and personal waffles. Why, in Hot Springs, making our own waffles was the most exciting part of our trip. I tut-tutted at him and asked him to move on.
He then told of all the wonderful ancient aquaducts and museum tours full of priceless Italian art. Shaking my head, I explained we had seen a magic show where a magician had made a giant two-of-hearts appear out of nowhere. Why did he have to fly to Italy to see an old painting when all he had to do was travel up Highway 3 to one of the best magic shows ever? We still haven’t figured out where that two-of-hearts came from.....or how on earth that lady was sawed in half.

The shear age of the buildings and the intricacies of the sculpture had educated him unlike any college classroom or local traveling museum even approached. Sighing, I told him the lesson learned on our own trip. That when making a high velocity S-turn, my 200 pound son can become a human projectile and jettison 30 feet skyward off his tube and become a giant skipping stone to land semi-conscious many yards away. An invaluable lesson on the importance of wearing a life jacket. No matter how good a swimmer, when your mother knocks you unconscious with her boating prowess, it is best to be wearing a flotation device. My son will keep that knowledge with him for years.

Grumbling a bit, he told me that he had rented a sporty BMW and looked really cool driving around. I laughed out loud and told him, for goodness sakes! This is the South! Louisiana girls don’t like guys in sports cars. They like men in big pick up trucks, with roller bars....and mudflaps. True blue southern girls hanker for the Toby Keiths, not the Tom Cruises. Men in sports cars belong in New York City.

But after raining on his parade, I reminded him of the very best part of vacationing in Hot Springs and not the wonders of Europe. That when one is making a most delicious waffle in the hotel, and accidentally sets it on fire, the good old American firemen hose it out and the good old American police haul you to a good old American jail. And one need not worry about state departments and passports and embassies and being water-boarded by Italian Polizia. One can dine on good old American jailhouse blueberry muffins while waiting on their good old American lawyer to post bail. God bless the US of A.