LOLLIPOPS ‘ CRISPS: The Horrors Of CNN

I remember as a kid, I was terrified of my basement. Even at the courageous age of 10, a big year in any boy’s life, I was still running up those stairs after the lights switched off. I would run, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach and the chills running throughout my body, because down there lived the scariest things in the world, the monsters of our nightmares. Now, however, I see those monsters on CNN.

Last week, our nation watched the trial of a mother who drowned her five kids to save their souls from damnation. We learned that maybe not every priest is a man of God. A pair of light beam towers completed the New York skyline as it raised to the very gates of heaven. Two parents from San Diego wept when they buried their little angel. Our country is not in the right place.

Since that infamous day in September, the day that everything changed, flags have decorated millions of Americans’ porches. People relearned the Star-Spangled Banner. Our nation was mourning, yet strong. We exclaimed, “United we stand,” but what we felt was scared. We announced that terrorism would be brought to an end, and still we wait. We wait to hear the news. Presently, our leaders tour the world seeking allies and friends, hoping to bridge gaps and form ties to end the violence. With their tired efforts strictly focused overseas, trying to continue in correcting all the world’s injustices and misfortunes, we sit unhealed and still in shock. Our government is on a campaign to bring justice and democracy into the modern world, but they left all of us by the wayside, a very dysfunctional country.

Can we resolve the Israeli-Palestinian crisis? No, we can’t, but we think we can. What we don’t understand is the guys fighting this war aren’t the guys sitting in suits negotiating peace treaties on CNBC. They are the men who lost their homes, their jobs, their sons and daughters. They are the people who have the scars that the Diane Sawyers of the world never seem to show. They don’t want to be influenced or talked down to, especially through American foreign policy. This is a jihad, a very sacred affair. These people feel they are on a mission of God, fighting for humanity and victory for all that is good. They don’t want to hear Bush’s words of peace, of compromise. How can you ask a person to compromise his or her God? I don’t know; I only go to mass for Easter and Christmas. But everyone in this country seems to know who is to blame.

What we, the United States, seem to forget is we are still the new kid on the block, trying to earn respect in our new neighborhood. With a formal independence of only 225 years, we may not have the same history or heritage as brothers England and Spain. We may have risen to the top of the class pretty quickly, but we still haven’t earned our stripes.

I think people want to believe our actions are noble, but I am skeptical, thinking maybe some good PR couldn’t hurt. I don’t think other countries wet themselves at the thought of being like us, the self-proclaimed most powerful country in the world. I don’t think they want our biases and HMOs and homeless situation and teenage pregnancies. They don’t want to fiercely compete in the new global economy, and they don’t worry about climbing up the corporate ladder. They just want the opportunity and strange sense of happiness we seem to possess in our capitalist-driven bubble.

We are the country that brought the world the Springer show and Britney Spears. I look at the Times and I sit and wonder, does Tony Blair really like George Bush? Does the world really respect our good intentions, naive as they are? Or do they smile and shake hands just because they have to — because we demand a certain level of respect. We can play bully or buddy, and you get to choose. Peasant to playboy overnight, they tell them, so millions sail across the sea and risk their lives to be part of the dream, to be a part of this fairy tale land. Shining in the night sky like a Vegas sideshow, an immigrant reads, “The Land of Opportunity: Where all your dreams come true!” when all he really gets is a chance to roll the dice.

Lately, more than ever, I have become one of these rejuvenated Americans. But I don’t flaunt it with a flag or shirt; I just feel it inside. A thankful thing, the sense of freedom and order generally present in our country. We’re lucky. But we still have so much work we can do right here at home. We have to understand our blessings as a nation, but at the same time, we must acknowledge our limitations.

We don’t know how to seduce Saddam Hussein in a peaceful, PR-charmed manner. We don’t know how to handle the rampant AIDS dilemma in Africa. We can’t fix Israel. We must stay united as a people and concentrate on protecting our families. We must provide general health care and enforce stricter criminal sentences. We must fix what’s wrong in our own backyard before playing Dear Abby to the rest of the world. There is time for progress, so let’s help rebuild.

We all seem determined to do our part in getting our country back on its feet. We love being rough around the edges; it gives us a certain sense of character. We are bruised but resilient, because right now, being patriotic and news-conscious is fashionable, and nobody wants to be out of the loop. I just hope we have this hope and patriotic mentality in six more months. Part of me thinks it’s sad, but a lot of it probably depends on whether Britney is still making wearing red, white and blue “cool.”