So, there’s an unofficial rivalry between me and Chad Gaddie, a fellow lawyer in St. Joseph, Missouri.
The rivalry: Who is more patriotic.
Chad is from Saint Joseph, Missouri. Not only was this the most important point on the Pony Express, but it is also the home to the Saint Joseph Civic Arena–the Mecca of the Central States Wrestling Association. I bow to his resident patriotism.
Not to be deterred, I set a new standard–one that I believed he could not surpass. I ate lunch at Cracker Barrel. Nothing makes you feel more American, more patriotic, more down-home, and closer to a heart attack than a scrumptious down-home Cracker Barrel meal.
Then, Chad did the unthinkable. He ate breakfast at Cracker Barrel. I sat in awe at the grease-covered patriotism exhibited by this man, a dedicated runner, shoveling a Country Boy Breakfast into his digestive tract. Stunned at this amazing act of patriotic self-gastro-flagellation, I retreated to my room to ponder my life and love of country.
In a panic, I drove to my local Cracker Barrel and considered purchasing a Dolly Parton gospel CD, but I realized that resorting to random purchases in the Country Store might seem disingenuous and, even worse, falsely patriotic.
For six months, I dwelled on Chat’s extreme demonstration of patriotism.
But no more.
This weekend, I reclaimed the top spot.
I stayed at the Great Wolf Lodge.
A down-home, country feel. Copious and frivolous uses of wood. Americana decorations galore. A huge parking lot filled with SUVs. Tattooed, overweight, and mullet-topped god-fearing Americans jammed into an indoor water park.
Could one hope to be more patriotic? More American?
I realize that records are made to be broken, but some last longer than others. I think mine is safe for a long, long time.
So, touche’, my friend from St. Joseph. You’ll have to have a lot more hat-pins on the John Deere mesh cap to beat me on this one.