Matt K. Lewis: Don’t Let Trump Ruin Your Fourth of July

I’ve always considered myself to be a relatively patriotic guy. Not the camouflage-hat wearing kind, mind you. I don’t have a lot of American flag-lapel pins on my blazers — or any expensive bunting adorning my house, for that matter. But I’ve been known to tear up during the national anthem. And I must confess to unironically enjoying Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA.”

Yet as America’s 250th rapidly approaches, I’ve been having difficulty getting — how do I put this? — in the mood. I’m just struggling to muster the kind of patriotic fervor an anniversary of this magnitude deserves.

Compared to what I had always imagined the semiquincentennial would evoke, this week feels anticlimactic. And judging by the sparsely attended Great American State Fair (the joke being that “Freedom 250” signifies the number of visitors), I’m not alone in feeling underwhelmed.

There must be millions of us: flag-waving, mom and apple pie loving, baseball-watching Americans who genuinely love this country, but right now are feeling something less than full-throated enthusiasm — because Donald Trump has managed to rain on our parade (and fireworks).

This isn’t entirely anecdotal. According to a recent survey, just “33% of U.S. adults say they are ‘extremely proud’ to be an American, the lowest reading in Gallup’s trend dating back to 2001.”

When faced with moments such as this, it’s important to put things in perspective. America has hit rough patches before. The bicentennial arrived when the nation was still reeling from Watergate, stagflation and disco — a trio of afflictions that might have cast a pall on any celebration.

To be fair, I don’t really remember 1976; I was a toddler. But history suggests it was a pretty awesome moment. Everyone came together. Republicans. Democrats. People who listened to Abba. People who liked “Welcome Back, Kotter.” They all celebrated. Together.

A big reason for this was that, unless I’m mistaken, Richard Nixon or Gerald Ford or Jimmy Carter did not insist the nation’s 200th birthday was really about them.

Doing the math, the semiquincentennial is my best chance to really enjoy one of these patriotic milestones — in my prime. “This is a pretty significant national event,” as one Ohioan recently told NOTUS. “Look, I’m probably not going to be alive for the 300th anniversary.”

This is a key reason I’m so disappointed in the current state of affairs. The run-up to America’s 250th has become yet another episode of “The Trump Show.” It’s about him. Everything’s always about him.

So instead of celebrating the republic, we’ve spent the past month focusing on the Reflecting Pool, UFC fights on the White House lawn, and “libtard” musicians who canceled their performances.

It didn’t have to be this way. Congress actually began planning for America’s 250th birthday a decade ago, creating the bipartisan America250 commission. They envisioned parades, concerts, marching bands and celebrations across the country.

Then, of course — as he did with the Republican Party and evangelical Christianity — Trump hijacked something that shouldn’t belong to him.

But more troubling is a larger problem. Much larger. Not only did Trump co-opt and botch the birthday celebration, he weakened the reason for celebrating: the idea that the American experiment, despite all its failings, is virtuous. The idea that we are a fundamentally decent country — and that we have been a force for good in this world.

America is, after all, a revolutionary experiment in self-government, founded by visionaries who pledged their lives and their fortunes, in part, on the radical idea that all men are created equal.

Thomas Jefferson wrote those words almost exactly 250 years ago, and we have spent generations painfully, imperfectly and incompletely trying to live up to them.

Abraham Lincoln pushed this promise forward. So did women’s suffrage advocates. Martin Luther King Jr. demanded payment on the promissory note. To this day, it’s a work in progress.

We’re imperfect. Always have been. Always will be. But we strive for “a more perfect Union.”

And don’t forget, we’re also the same country whose boys stormed the beaches of Normandy to rid Europe of fascism. We’re the same country that told another evil empire to “tear down this wall!”

So, while I may be struggling to get in an appropriately patriotic mood, I have also decided: I am not going to let Trump ruin this event. You’re damn right I’m going to celebrate.

I’ll celebrate the America that existed before Trump, and (God willing) will still exist after him. I’ll celebrate the fact that we’re the “last best hope of earth” and the land of opportunity. I’ll celebrate our astonishing ability to argue about algae, cryptocurrency and ballrooms while still lining up together for Little League games, church suppers and county fairs.

And if politics feels exhausting, there’s a remedy: Turn off the TV and go somewhere other than Washington. Seriously, every little hamlet seems to be hosting a celebration.

Around my corner of the world in Harpers Ferry, West Virginia, one flyer announced the Rohrersville Band would perform at 1 o’clock, while the Women’s Club will sell hot dogs, chips, cookies and a drink for two dollars — cash or checks only. Bring a lawn chair or blanket.

That’s it. No culture war. No social-media outrage. Just a brass band, grilled wieners, folding chairs and some neighbors.

It’s not Mayberry. It actually exists, just an hour or so from D.C. And this sort of romantic, idyllic festival is, in fact, pretty typical. I’ve seen similar advertisements in plenty of towns.

So skip Washington. Head to a small town. Or stay home, fire up the barbecue and invite some friends over. Crack open a beer. Or two. Turn off the cable news. Ignore the elephant in the room. And spend the Fourth with actual human beings — instead of professional arguers (like yours truly).

None of this means permanently averting your eyes from injustices that are taking place just because there are fireworks overhead. But those atrocities will still be there on Monday. Believe me.

America is turning 250, and that’s a big deal. Sure, she looks like she has spent the last decade surviving on whiskey and cigarettes, sans sunscreen. But she’s still standing. And that’s worth honoring.

This country has renewed itself one generation at a time — not only through political leaders like George Washington, Lincoln and the Roosevelts — but through the sheer goodness of ordinary Americans who keep showing up for one another.

That’s the America I’ll be celebrating this Fourth of July.

Matt K. Lewis is a NOTUS Perspectives columnist.