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An American Dreams (Written In My Hot-Air Balloon) |
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July 3rd, 2006 11:43am |
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I love America. Some days as I sit in my hot air balloon and look down upon the city, my mind wanders. I think of how blessed I am to be in America, above the town I love, and in my vehicle of choice: hot air balloon. I think of America. My mind wanders to thoughts of wearing a powedered wig. I think back to colonial days and our American forefathers. What dreamers! These were men who dreamed the impossible dream, which is the most American of things to do and, conveniently, the topic of this blog entry.
My mind wanders and I think . . . what an American thing to do!
To be American is to dream. There is a beautiful song that Don Quixote sings in the musical, Man of La Mancha entitled The Impossible Dream . It is a rousing song that celebrates attempting the impossible and failing miserably at it, something I am all too familiar with.
Even as a small child I dreamed the impossible dream. When answering that most asked of questions, What do you want to be when you grow up?, I would proudly and confidently answer, I want to be the first female black president. Being a young pasty white caucasian male, this posed many problems for both me and my parents. How would they explain to me that I was a white male and would not later in life become a black female, (at least naturally)? How would they tell me I would never be smart enough or have enough political connections to become president of the United States?, (at least naturally)
How would they encourage me to dream without crushing my little idiotic hopes? By slapping the back of my head and asking me never to speak in public, of course. But they also always encouraged the impossible dream. It is impossible dreams that keep me going and keep me American.
As I grew older and wiser, my impossible dreams have become a bit more managable. For example, it is perfectly feasible to attempt and be successful at one of my latest dreams: to shoot a giraffe in the forehead. To achieve my dream (shoot a giraffe in the forehead) it would only require a tall ladder, large gun, and giraffe. This does, however, pose the question Why shoot a giraffe in the forehead? I answer that question with, Hmm.
But you see, people who dream impossible dreams have given us such distinctly American things as mini-muffins, Hot Pockets, and chips in a tennis ball can (Pringles!) They dont ask why, they ask why not. Why not have a larger SUV that eats gas and threatens to destroy the entire planets ecosystem? Thats American thinking! Why not make Garfield 2? But nobody asked for Garfield 2, says all the naysayers. Doesnt matter, says the American filmmaking machine! Why not!
So you see, this 4th of July if you truly want to celebrate being American, simply dream! Dont settle for easy manageable goals. Instead reach for difficult nonsensicle ones through which the end result will be good for no one. Thats American! Dream! Dream! Dream!
Now, Im off to pursue one of my latest dreams: finally perform my one man musical "Love Dont Holocaust a Thing". Its about Hitlers dog.
Hey, why not?;
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