Coyote Mercury

words, birds and whatever else by James Brush

Bona Fide!

I’m not sure if I am a real American or a fake American. Sarah Palin’s recent floccinaucinihilipilification of the not so pro American parts of the country has got me thinking (and, yes, busting out the big words that any real American would never utter, by gosh wilikers!).

So, to take stock.

I live in Texas. Real America.

But I live in Austin. Fake America.

But I live in the part of Austin that’s in Williamson County. Real America with a capital A.

But I’m from Rhode Island. Fake America.

Well, that doesn’t help.

I have heard that trusty red Alabama might be considered real America. Let’s see what some of those hard-workin’ betcha by golly wow real Americans have to say about Barack Obama:

“He’s neither-nor,” said Ricky Thompson, a pipe fitter who works at a factory north of Mobile, while standing in the parking lot of a Wal-Mart store just north of here. “He’s other. It’s in the Bible. Come as one. Don’t create other breeds.”


“I would think of him as I would of another of mixed race,” said Glenn Reynolds, 74, a retired textile worker in Martinsville, Va., and a former supervisor at a Goodyear plant. “God taught the children of Israel not to intermarry. You should be proud of what you are, and not intermarry.”


“He’s going to tear up the rose bushes and plant a watermelon patch,” said James Halsey, chuckling, while standing in the Wal-Mart parking lot with fellow workers in the environmental cleanup business. “I just don’t think we’ll ever have a black president.”


“I’ve always been against the blacks,” said Mr. Rowell, who is in his 70s, recalling how he was arrested for throwing firecrackers in the black section of town. But now that he has three biracial grandchildren – “it was really rough on me” – he said he had “found out they were human beings, too.”

Of course this all came from the New York Times, so take it with a grain of salt, I mean, the New York Times?!? talk about your fake America.

They did let me vote, though, and I voted for one of the pro-American candidates.


  1. OK let me think…

    Live in Texas…REAL!

    But in Austin…Fake.

    Once lived in small-town West Virginia. Woo-hoo, SO REAL!

    But was journalist at the time. Fake. So, so fake.

    Once drove a Chevrolet. Yes! REAL!

    But born and raised in New York. Oh goodness…

  2. Born AND raised in New York? Uh-oh.

    AS for me, I left out the whole drives Prius, lived overseas for 6 years, worked in the film business side of the story.

  3. My little brother posted this on his online journal, from someone we know back in Alabama where we grew up… I’d consider the story real and worth clicking through to…

  4. Um, since I wasn’t actually born in the US of A, does that mean I’m just guaranteed not to be a real American? Will they reject my voter’s card even though I’ve been a citizen for 32 years and voted in every election I’ve been old enough to vote in? Please, please, please let me vote!!

  5. James, it seems you could have your own civil war. Or perhaps that’s an un-civil war, based on the campaign tone.

    I couldn’t get much more unreal, living in liberal SB, in liberal CA, driving a non-American car, working at a university, eating arugula, not owning a gun, not attending church, and not planning on having children.

    Heck, they’ll probably give my vote to Heather!

  6. Kim, I followed your link and it certainly gives a little more hope. Thanks.

    Heather, I think they’ll let you vote as long as you weren’t born in one of those terrorist countries like Massachusetts. Where were you born, btw?

    George, I try to keep it civil at least within myself. I think you might get a prize for your unrealness. Or perhaps deported.

  7. Swap out your ‘Fake America’ Rhode Island for my ‘Fake America’ Chicago and our situations are similar, James.

    Mr Rowell’s quote kind of got to me – it was rough on him? I’ve known a few older people who had genuine changes of heart once their blended-heritage grandchildren came along – and others who never allowed the children into their homes or lives.

    Annie at the Transplantable Rose

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