America (Still) The Beautiful

If you didn’t grow up in the ‘70s and ‘80s — and, logically, earlier — you just cannot comprehend how much things have changed, how interpersonal relationships have evolved and devolved, and how far we’ve fallen as a society. Gen X remembers when parents were parents and kids respected the rules and one another. Nothing was perfect. But it was better. We had freedom but we also had discipline. We had crime but we also had punishment. We had drama but we also had the ability think critically and overcome it. We had generally understood and enforced rules in our social contract. We were committed to one another, to God, to country, and to family.

The irony is that with so much freaking progress in technology, media, medicine, and on and on, we have become less connected, more manipulated, and less healthy. Physical health, mental health, take your pick.

We have so damn much that we have forgotten what it was like barely a generation ago. We all have supercomputers in our pockets and businesses clamoring for our attention. We push a few buttons on our pocket foodarackacycles and have gourmet meals delivered to our front doors in under 30 minutes. We all have running water — hot, cold, any temperature you like. Electric refrigeration and automatic ice. Too many pairs of shoes to count. A comfortable bed. Air conditioning for when it’s hot. Baseboard heat for when it’s not. If I ever finish the book this comes from, you'll have a choice how to receive it. Maybe eventually I’ll even make it available in my dumb voice right from my dumb face. We have too many channels to choose too many entertainment options. We text each other playlists. Music has become virtually free. Concerts, not so much, but that’s for another rant. Our cars, no longer our wives, tell us when to turn. Satellites guide us around traffic.

Yet somehow, so many freaking people are so freaking unhappy. We should all be walking up to one another, strangers on the street, just smiling like morons and asking, “Can you believe how freaking great life is in 2026?”

But nope. We ignore voices of gratitude and good will. Having so much makes too many want so much more. To want things the way that makes them feel smarter than the stranger. So, we look past one another. You’re not a potential pal, you’re competition. We listen to words that keep us divided and angry. We repeat them as our own. We disregard common sense and objective reality.

Yeah, we may be too far gone, too divided, and too tribalized to begin rejecting elected leaders, media mushmouths, social trends, and the language manipulation that undergirds it all. Sad.

But all is not lost. Call it the reaching of critical mass. Call it the inevitable pendulum swing. Call me naïve. Whatever it is, there seems to be a real willingness among real people to live more simply. To put down the pocket computers and have actual conversations. To, as I scribbled up front, when you’re upset about this or that, to want to be wrong, and if so, to be told so. Humility.

Many of my friends and I are purposefully bringing one another back to basics, making a once-monthly commitment to attending Mass as a group — the best invitation I've ever received — not because we’re Bible thumpers or requiring our faith to be the rule, but because a few hours a month committed to doing things olde-timey, as they were in our formative years, creates a real, workable, peaceful, faithful grounding. Meet at Mass, share a meal after, have a lot of laughs. Faith, Friends, and Food. The weeks that follow are better. The friendships that are already decades-old are stronger. Join us.

“Kev, what are you raving about? I thought this was supposed to be about language and how people abuse it for their own purposes.” Well, yeah. But it’s also about the end game and that’s where we are now. Individual strength and resiliency are essential to effective push back. So, grounding yourself in friends and family and even faith (if that’s your jam) is essential to be able to recognize the manipulation, as well as the purposeful repetition and regurgitation of anti-family, anti-American, and collectivist dreck we continue to endure.

Look to the great German philosopher Freddy. He’s the intrepid World Cup 2026 traveler, criss-crossing the land of the free and the home of the brave, documenting it all on his faceless X (formerly Twatter) account, @FreddyLA7. Maybe he’s just some American dude and we’re being trolled. No matter. Freddy is, whoever he is, purposefully and actively reminding us how freaking great the United States of America is. And it’s a common theme across the socials — foreigners who came here, fearful, to watch their fútbol, posting video love letters to our great nation, astounded that the lies and propaganda they’ve been fed by their Euroverlords are just that. Now if we could just work on the broad swath of American citizens who hate just because.

Americans who hate America can go scratch. We know you only hate when you’re able to make political hay of your hate so, again, go scratch. Freddy gets it. He speaks of Taco Bell as the Holy Land. Waffle House gets a 10/10. Arriving in Houston, JJ Watt hooked up Freddy with a room that blew his German mind. En route to OKC, he snaps a shot of IN-N-OUT and proclaims them the best burgers ever, fascinated that two hours into his drive from Houston, he’s still in the Houston area. Yeah. Big burbs here, Freddy. Enjoy.

Freddy reminds us that Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World is indeed surreal. We’ve just gotten used to it being so. Chili’s is a hot stop. He’s transfixed by the soda fountains. Like anyone who lives where there are no BUC-EE’S, he’s blown away by BUC-EE’S. And it’s not just our high-calorie, high-octane retail that has Freddy and other gobsmacked visitors enthralled. It’s us. The people. The ones who drive Freddy to the game rather than let him walk an hour from his hotel or pay for an Uber. The ones who made a Welcome Freddy sign on the border of Louisiana where they knew he’d be driving. It’s the eagle flying around the stadium. Things we yawn at, Freddy has put in stark relief for us all to remember. We are blessed.

Freddy is a living, breathing, and posting travelogue for the greatness of America. The regions we’re told by our cosmopolitan betters that are backwoods and backwards. Patriots know better. Freddy knows better. He’s declared Ella Langley the soundtrack of his great, eye-opening journey of discovery of this still great nation. So, naturally, as he arrived in OKC, he discovers his room overflowing with new suitcases, properly sized TECOVAS, 10-gallon hats (37,85 liters to Freddy), and road trip snacks gifted by Ella and her team. This is outstanding, flag-waving, Made In America hospitality. Right when the typical, miserable media suspects are trying to trash America with more lies and division about how embarrassing we are to our elite friends from around the globe, our true friends from around the globe discover firsthand, the opposite. And it is glorious.

But the haters gonna hate. So, continue to listen to their words. Read their writing. Monitor their actions. Question their intentions. Talk to one another. They already knew not to screw with Boomers and Gen X but now, a good hunk of Gen Z is beginning to push back so the malignant souls behind our intended, purposeful, collective, planned demise are going balls-out with words, with actions, with activism, panicked that they’re losing ground in their final stronghold — youth — and they’re fighting to keep their narratives flowing, their candidates winning, and the culture rotting; a coordinated violation of our souls and spirits.

So, there’s work to do.

I’m but a humble Words Guy.^™ I’m just a writer tryna — sorry, trying to — keep it real. Calling out the abuses. Snickering at the fools. Working to maintain meaning. Defending our nation, our families, our language, and our lives. Because.

And I like our odds.