4th of July – 5 Things I Love About America - 2007

I was born in the USA. Bruce Springsteen sings the line in his hit BORN IN THE USA about fifty times. The Thai go-go girls at Tahitian Queen 1 dance to that song every day. None of them join in the chorus, but the ex-pats on the bar stools chant every word of the refrain to their teary compatriots so far from the Land of the Free.

“Born in the USA.”

While there is a lot I like about the USA, this song is not one of them. I mean Bruce keeps going on and on like he has amnesia or an early stages of Alzheimer’s Disease or that people are so stupid that he had to sing 400 times so they got what he was saying.

Anyway here are the five things I love about the USA.

1.) Road trips.

Several years back a friend and I were discussing why he liked his Ferrari. He said it was for the freedom. At the time we were sat in bumper to bumper traffic on the Verrazano Bridge. The open roads were for fast cars and just cruising.

Route 100 in Vermont. Route 25 to 113 in Maine. Route 1 beyond Ellsworth Maine and south of Homestead FLA. The PCH anywhere isn’t a city. Las Vegas-Grand Canyon-Monument Valley-Arches-Capitol Reef-Bryce Canyon-Zion Canyon-Vegas. The Jones Beach Parkway. Anyplace in Montana. In fact I like these trips because they remind me of being free.

In Montana the speed limit used to be ‘WHATEVER IS REASONABLE AND PROPER’.

In 1995 I was zooming on Interstate 90 outside of Billings at 110mph. Passed a semi-trailer and spotted a lurking state trooper. Two choices. Put on the brakes or else keep up to speed. I chose the latter, because the former was an admission of guilt.

Montana recently changed that speed limit due to a class action suit by motorists with shitty cars who said the speed limit was prejudiced against them.

Freedom of expression challenged by those too slow to care.

It’s unAmerican, but then what isn’t these days?

Not #2

2.) Life Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness.

I was once asked for my philosophy of life.

The question stumped me.

Zen, Nihilism, Materialism?

Not a chance.

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Especially the latter.

Fun fun fun.

3.) Baseball.

Baseball has been the great American pastime since before the Civil War. The game is played all around the world no matter what the teabags (Brits) think about it. Baseball isn’t half as boring as Cricket, although I appreciate the bravery of the infielders’ barehanding the hard-hit ball.

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Ouch.

Unfortunately baseball doesn’t get played as much as before. Americans are too fat to round the bases, parents are too scared of weirdos to let their kids out of the house, not that they aren’t a lot of weirdoes in the house too, and lastly people work too much to take off the three two hours when they could be watching TV.

Not baseball on TV.

Just TV.

I have a baseball glove here in Pattaya.

I throw the ball against the garage wall.

I’ve broken every window within 15 feet of the strike zone.

My arm is getting stronger.

In August I’m heading to the States and I’m challenging anyone to play.

Batter up and wear your helmet.

4.) Speaking freely.

The First Amendment protects the freedom of speech.

You can say whatever you want in America and this goes against the grain of Fox News who consider the 1st Amendment to mean that you are free to say whatever you want as long as it’s doesn’t mean anything. To do otherwise is treason.

Impeach the president.

“Weakens the troops’ resolve.”

Pull out of Iraq.

“Cut and run.”

Free Sex.

“What about the children?”

The Freedom of Speech deserves to be practiced even if the speaker is talking shit.

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So what?

In Germany you can be arrested for flipping the bird.

Not in America.

It’s the national highway salute to bad drivers.

5.) Amnesia.

Americans forget their mistakes faster than any other nation.

Most don’t even think we’re in Iraq anymore.

Of course a die-hard group will carry a grudge forever, but most Americans will move on. Life’s too short to worry about bad things.
Let’s have a BBQ.

So enjoy the fireworks and have a real beer.

Not Budweiser.

Dale Earnhardt Jr. is abandoning the proud maker of panther piss next year.

Hopefully it’s be replaced by Stella Artois.

It ain’t American and neither is Heineken, but it don’t matter, because you’re American as long as you’re in America. You might be illegal. You might be foreign born. You might be a 10 generation Yankee like me.

But it’s star and stripes forever.

Even for anarchists like me.

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Spoof on Soi 6 - July 4, 2012

Yesterday I was drinking with my good mate Fabo at the Buffalo Bar. It was empty of farangs. Most Europeans had stayed home to watch Euro Cup 2012 at home. Ireland hadn't qualified due to Thierry Henry's handball and Belgium had stayed home, so neither of us cared a tick about the games. The Belgian owner had refised to air the matches and working girls at the bar wore long faces without any kaks or customers. They huddled around Fabo and me, as if we were millionaires.

Let's get out of here." The thirty-seven year-old Charleroi native suggested after finishing his Heineken Classic.

"Where to?" The sky grew black with monsoon rain.

"Soi 6. We can celebrate your Independence Day with some Brits." The buzzcut Belgian seismic explorer didn't like the English. He didn't like the French either. The Dutch were okay, but only because they made Heineken.

"It's July 3rd."

"Then we must drink more beer to make our time machine go into the future."

We pried ourselves from the Buffalo girls and got on my scooter. I drove the back roads to Soi 6. A few drops of rain dotted the street. The wind blew hard from the Gulf of Siam. There was going to be a deluge. We made it to the short-time haven without getting drenched. I parked the scooter on the street. Girls from the short-time bars called for us to join them. A loud crack of thunder shivered through the electric green air. Fabo and I ran across the street and made it under the awning as three inches of rain fell in one millisecond.

"Bon chance, eh?" Fabo led me inside the bar. Tottenham Nick and four mates were stationed in the Bus Stop Bar. My entrance was greeted with anti-American insults. I told them, “God fuck the Queen.”

The teabags groaned with revulsion.

"Fucking you wish you had a queen."

"There's plenty of ladyboys across the street." Kathoeys were very popular on Soi 6. They were transgender and men like sex more than women.

"I'll stick with good old Queen Bess." Tottenham Nick ordered me a gin-tonic and then asked, “You wanna play ‘Spoof’?”

“Never heard of it.” Fabo was settled with his Heineken.

“Great.” Nick had plenty of drinking games. Most of them consist of getting as much alcohol down his gullet as his brain can handle without his stomach revolting in dismay. “You play ‘Spoof’ with three coins. Everyone put out their hands and you have to guess how many coins are in everyone’s hands.”

“Oh.” It seemed simple enough.

“Whoever loses buys a round.”

“I lost the last game.” An Atlanta Reb declared with a red face from the end of the bar. “We have to get our 4th of July victory.”

“Why not?” I would have stood a round for America’s birthday anyway.

There were eight of us.

We held out our hands.

The count at most could be 18. The least zero.

I tried to guess what everyone was holding and failed miserably, yet managed to get knocked out thanks to a lucky guess and was rewarded with a gin-tonic.

Not too strong, because the bars on Soi 6 never pour full measures.

The girl behind the counter was cute.

Skinny too.

“Watch out.” Nick knew my taste run to thin.

“No worries.” My wallet was also thin.

Down to my last 1000 baht.

At least until after the 4th of July with my ATM card arrived from the States.

Nick called for another game. I couldn’t refuse and lost. Another gin-tonic and my bill was 600 baht. I had 400 left for food and I thanked Nick for the

"Not a problem. Happy Fourth of July."

"It should be." The ATM card had better come.

I tried calling Scoby’s on Sai 3 for a pizza from outside. The rain had let up for a moment.

No answer.

"What happened to Scoby's?" I asked Fabo.

"He went out of business. Now there's a new pizza there. The worst pizza in the world."

"No thanks."

"Then we go back to Buffalo."

"Why not?"

It was July 3 and I had learned something new by ignoring an old lesson.

Never gambled after drinking, unless you want to lose your money, especially at Spoof.