I’m Pretty Sure This Will Get Me Flagged

First, in typical Kristabella fashion (read = completely oblivious), I wrote this awhile back and was going to post this on September 11. I’m pretty sure I would have landed in some sort of prison. Or I would have been recruited by a terrorist cell.

And since now I’m a little drunk, since the Bears won tonight (we Chicagoans have to take ANY victory we can these days), I’m posting this. Because tomorrow, when I’m sober and can put coherent sentences together, I’ll tell you how I watched the game tonight with Divorced Daddy. And his friends. And nothing has changed. And you’ll just have to wait a day to read about this. If you’re still talking to me after this post.

I’m sure I’m going to cause a lot of controversy with this post. And all those visitors that have come over here from Zoot, (welcome! Please stay and comment! And please come back!) will be long gone when they read this one.

And I’m pretty sure it’s going to put me into some database with the terrorists. Why, you ask? Because I hate the national anthem. Of my country. The good old U-S-of-A.

*ducks*

Now, I do NOT hate America. I love our country. And love that I get to live in a country where we have the freedoms that we do. A country where I can consume as much alcohol as I can and make a complete ass of myself. A country were I can start a website and say anything. (Even if sometimes it gets me fired.) I am proud to be an American. (That sounds like a good title for a song.)

But I cannot stand the Star Spangled Banner. Yes, maybe hate is too strong a word. But I like really, really dislike it. Standing there at sporting events, etc. is like fingernails on a damn chalkboard to me. I would honestly rather be at the dentist having a root canal. That few minutes is the loooongest few minutes of my life. Sometimes making me ponder the amount of pain jumping from the top of the stadium would cause. And if that indeed would be more painful than that stupid song.

I know. You are all deleting me from your feed readers. “She probably hates apple pie too! And Chevy’s! The cars! And I bet she burns the flag!”

I don’t know what it is. I worked in sports for so many years that I pretty much heard that song every damn day. Maybe it is because I have heard bad singers sing it far too often. But even when it is someone good, and it should blow me away, like at the Super Bowl or the World Series, I literally sit there with my fingers in my ears saying lalalalalala. Because it CAN’T END FAST ENOUGH. STOP SINGING! And God help us when they sing God Bless America too! Where’s my gun?

In college, when I was working in the Sports Information office, I worked every sport. You name it, I worked it once – cross country meets, swimming, volleyball, softball, baseball, basketball, football, track, wrestling, tennis. Every. Sport. Many times, more than one sport in a day. Can you imagine, waking up early to sit in a closet at the pool working a swimming meet, then changing in the bathroom because the football team kicks off in a few hours? Do you know that is two times (TWO TIMES) you have to hear the damn national anthem?

Times that by three years at Arizona State, which also included working random Phoenix Suns games as well. More Star Spangled CRAP. And then I spent my summers working for a minor league baseball team. Do you know how many home games those teams play? And then more working in the NFL. And then add that on to the games I attend as a fan. I now know why I choose to skip the beginning of the games. Maybe it is for the extra beer at the bar to avoid the insane ballpark prices. Or maybe it is so I won’t pull out my lovely brunette locks.

OK, so organize the lynchings. I can handle it. Because it doesn’t make me hate my country. Or stop going to events. Or even stop listening to it.

It just makes me dislike Francis Scott Key more than any human should.