On this momentous occasion, I usually stay away from political commentary. I generally try to stay away from political commentary during most momentous occasions since politics is a dirty business and it is healthy to look away from it once in a while.
4th of July is, by necessity, a political holiday though. Still, it does not mean I have to think about the spectacularly screwed up modern day politics. I am probably biased in that I think modern day politics are especially screwed up, but recency bias is not an unusual thing.
The fundamental ideas of this nation of ours are nicely encapsulated in the Declaration of Independence and in Thomas Paine's Common Sense, so I make it a point to re-read them during the yearly 4th of July long weekend. The clarity of thought displayed by the founders is still remarkable today. That clarity of though is the biggest reason America succeeded beyond the wildest fears of its detractors.
Quite a few of my left-leaning European friends often look down on the American idea and argue that its success is mostly due to favourable geography. That's hogwash. It takes men and ideas to make a country out of geography.
My family became naturalized American citizens during the summer of 1999, a year after I graduated college. We landed in the US in 1991. If you come here as a refugee, you get a green card in a year or so and you can apply for the citizenship after five years. Then, the immigration bureaucracy takes over, so it was another three years until we were sworn in. It was really interesting how anticlimactic the actual swearing in was. Do not get me wrong, it was a huge relief that now they couldn't just kick us out. That's the fear legal immigrants often have. Since we came here legally, we were subject to the whims of the INS and you are not really out of the woods until you get the naturalization certificate. Apparently, if you just walk across the border, you do not need to be all that concerned, but I promised to stay away from modern politics, so I will.
We thought of ourselves as Americans well before that.
In my case, I can point out the exact moment when I realized I am an American. It was during my senior year in high school. It was right after my birthday, in early May. A friend of mine had a little red Fiat X1/9. It was a cool looking car. In the famed Fiat tradition, it was also a crappy little car that we spent a good amount of time working on, but that particular summer day it was up and running and we were heading I do not remember where. We were driving with the convertible top removed north on 101 freeway in Los Angeles. The moment somehow stuck in my memory: I looked at the Hollywood sign and the palm trees and suddenly realized that this is home, while Soviet Union's drab grey buildings and perestroika lawlessness are behind us like a bad dream.
I have a lot of uncomplimentary things to say about Los Angeles in particular and California in general, but they will always have a soft spot in my heart. I do not want to live there any more, but that was our first home in this great country.