Where are you from?

I’m not the most patriotic person but I am proud to tell people I am an American. I’ve heard a lot of talk about how much citizens from other nations despise Americans. I distinctly remember before a trip to London someone adamantly imploring me to tell people I was Canadian. No offense to the leafs, but I would never stoop to that sort of deception just to avoid some sort of reprisal from an uppity U.S. hater.

I don’t know what these people are talking about anyway. Not once have I ever endured any sort of backlash from anyone, anywhere. I have received nothing short of total respect. In fact, it is my experience that most people I have met go out of their way to accommodate me. Now, these same people may be cursing my existence under their breath and depositing rat droppings in my drinks, but on the surface I have gotten along famously with everyone.

What I really love is when people ask me where I am from. Usually, I say ‘Cincinnati’ or ‘Ohio’ or maybe I am out at a bar and decide to go with ‘California’. Now, I calmly turn and pronounce the letters ‘U – S – A’. This is typically met with an ecstatic ‘ah, an American!’ followed by a silent nod of acknowledgement and understanding. They know.