I’ve done my share of snarling lately. It’s sort of my job. However, given our proximity to Independence Day, I’ve decided to take a different approach this go-round. Rather than pumping vitriol, I’m going to pump gratitude. This one is for you, America.

Independence Day is when we honor our fallen heroes and celebrate what we so easily take for granted. No, not quilted toilet paper, but rather, freedom. Not everyone gets freedom, you know—or quilted toilet paper, for that matter. We live in a country that has struggled since its inception to provide a safe haven to differing opinions and beliefs. On July 4th of every year, we celebrate our haven as proud Americans.

Independence Day—a day on which we celebrate our continuing independence from our friends in England (they weren’t all our friends in 1776). Independence Day—a day we dedicate to our troops overseas, who bravely fight whether the reasons for doing so are worthwhile or they aren’t. Our politicians may be cowards, but the people they’ve charged with doing their bidding certainly aren’t.

Independence Day—a day we drive our families out to a field somewhere to watch loud, colorful explosions in the sky. If Michael Bay has taught us anything, it’s that all hardships can be overcome by a big enough explosion. Independence Day—a good day for men with “Kiss the Cook” aprons, but a solemn one for beef franks and the human aorta.

Independence Day—a day I’d be using as an excuse to have dirty interpersonal liaisons were I not stranded it Singlesland. Independence Day—it’s about time I stopped beginning every sentence with “Independence Day.”

The Fourth of July—Independence Day. Is there any other day that the sound of squirting mustard takes on such a musical quality? July 4th—when conservatives congregate around grills and freely discuss how Obama is ruining America. The upcoming patriotic holiday—when liberals crowd around veggie bars and freely discuss how Dick Cheney destroyed America.

America—where words like “liberal” and “conservative” get tossed around like they actually mean something. This country I’m standing in right now—where we as a people can believe that our political parties are something more than groups of powerful people with shared investments.

America—where we serve French fries, even though there’s nothing French about them. America—where we consider pizza Italian, but most Italians don’t. America—the Power Rangers may have been originally filmed in Japan, but it was re-edited and repackaged in the States. The U.S.A.—where, for several months, I inexplicably got free HBO, Cinemax, Showtime, and STARZ. This country I live in—where I can admire actress Alicia Witt without the interference of a cumbersome veil.

This snarl is for you, America. Without you, the world wouldn’t have Chicken McNuggets, softcore pornography, the television series How I Met Your Mother, or the Vanilla Ice musical library. We didn’t invent karaoke, but our drunks perfected it.

America—John Kellogg may have invented cereal to curb masturbation, but the rest of the world benefits from it anyway. America—there are far worse places to live, and few of them have comparable cable packages. America: We have liquor stores.

Great American films: Casablanca, Citizen Kane, The Graduate, RoboCop, Kindergarten Cop, The Toxic Avenger, Ernest Scared Stupid, Debbie Does Dallas, and It’s a Wonderful Life. We didn’t produce Seven Samurai, but we did produce The Magnificent Seven, which is pretty much the same thing.

And finally, gracias to America—a land where I can write absolute drivel criticizing my country and live to do it time and again.

This Independence Day, let’s remember that countless soldiers have fallen and will continue to fall to preserve our right to moan and groan about all that we see fit to moan and groan about.

Save me some mustard, America. I dedicate this hot dog to you.

New River Voice columnist Charles Smith is looking forward to standing in the middle of Memorial Bridge on July 4 singing Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA” as loud as he can while watching explosions of color coming from Bisset Park.