I’ve thought about it a lot lately and I’ve come to appreciate even more the fact that we’re pretty damn lucky to be Americans. I don’t take it lightly that we live in the greatest country in the world.

And I’m not going to go into how this relates to someone like me being able to go on a trip to Belize — in 47 days, no less — where I’ll sit on the beach of a small island of 1,100 residents 21 miles off the coast of Belize City, snorkel the second-largest barrier reef in the world (adding to my list since I’ve already snorkeled the largest barrier reef in the world in Australia), tour an ancient Mayan ruin, sit on the beach, eat fresh seafood caught that day, drink Belikin beers and probably just sit on my ass on the beach all day, almost every day.

No, I won’t talk about that, but if you want to see what it might be like, you can check this out. (Editor’s note: We’re staying at the Seaside Cabanas which are at the 34- to 41-second mark.)

So, what am I talking about when I say that it’s great to be American?

It could be that we don’t live in a country where they will just turn off your Internet. And my Internet. And his Internet. Actually, everyone’s Internet. That’s a pretty good reason why it’s good to be American.

And when you have access to the Internet all day, every day, you’re bound to be up at 2:33 a.m. some day with nothing to do and come across awesome websites like this, where you can buy stuff they’d probably only allow in America (and maybe Japan).

the-ultimate-drunk-driving-home-arcade-experience

And we don’t live in a country full of stupid people, like Europe. That’s another thing to be proud of.

Um, oops. Maybe that kinda proved the wrong point.

Well, anyway, we do live in the greatest country in the world because people are free to make insulting commercials to play during the Super Bowl (shoutout to a former media relations student, Dustin Tomes, and his good work there; loved it).

And speaking of commercialism, the greatest reason the United States is the greatest country in the world is that we get to make up our own holidays. And people not from Illinois, don’t start with me. We did not make up Casimir Pulaski Day; I’m telling you, it’s legit.

No, America is great because we can make up holidays just to sell shit. Take Valentine’s Day. Now that’s as fake a holiday as you can get. And it’s all for the bucks.

I’m supposed to feel guilty if I don’t go buy a bouquet of flowers, a card, some chocolates, a bottle of sparkling wine, a pricey dinner and a diamond something-or-other just because a bunch of commercials said to?

Um, no. Not really. It’s not going to get me to run right out for any of those.

Sugar-mama might get flowers some time, but not because it’s a certain day on a calendar. It’s because she’s my best friend and I like her smile.

She ain’t getting chocolates and a $7 card that speaks because some douchey looking cheesey actor in a turtleneck told me to. She might get it because she’s been there for me in my shitty, not-going-to-ever-speak-of-this-on-my-blog moments. There aren’t many things I won’t open my mouth about, but she knows them. And still loves me.

Dinner and wine come when I’m hungry, not when society tells me I need to go. She’ll get her favorite meal because she amazes me with her sports knowledge (not as a chick; she’d beat almost all of your male asses in sports trivia), her ability to remember pop culture references like she’s Chuck Klosterman’s ghost writer and her uncanny knack for finding NCIS, Law & Order and CSI shows as easily as I find college football and basketball games.

And for the diamond stuff? Sorry, but not every fucking kiss begins with Kay. It does begin with lips though, the kind that say the right things at all the right times and the kind that are so missable.

She deserves all that stuff and more. So luckily we live in the greatest country in the world and I can just make up my own holiday where I give her all the presents she wants and expect nothing in return.

I’ll have to think of a name for that holiday. I’ll let you know in about 56 days after I’ve had time to consider it.