May 23, 1976
8th Grade Social Studies
The bicentennial means so much to me. As citizens of one of the world’s superpowers and the best country on Earth, we have a great deal to be thankful for on this, the 200th anniversary of this country’s birth. We must not forget how our forefathers sacrificed while fighting the bucktoothed British soldiers. Their diets were lean in those days, sometimes relying on raw squirrel meat and whiskey to get them through the harsh winter months.
Here are (in no particular order) what the bicentennial means to me:
- Mayor Randolph setting his hair on fire when kicking off the annual 4th of July fireworks display (again)
- My father getting drunk and telling my mother that if he’s such a bad provider and a drunk that she should have married that jerk Tom Gibbons
- An opportunity to turn a quick buck with my “I Love the Bicentenial [sic]” buttons
- The KISS concert comes to town, and I heard from my cousin Ron that they’re going to do a bitchin’ cover of that stupid Neil Diamond song “They’re Coming to America.”
Mostly, the bicentennial means to me that America is 200 years old, which is older than everything else in America, except maybe some really big trees. It is good that America is so old because that means it will probably be here for at least another 200 years, which is after I’ll probably be dead and then I won’t care what happens to America.