O say can you see? And... hear?

So.

On an afternoon in late September, 2001 I went with a bunch of my new best friends to Soldier Field in Chicago to watch the Chicago Fire play. It was the end of our orientation to college, a VERY tumultuous nine days which would have been emotional enough if not for you know, the national tragedy that had occurred 4 days prior to commencement of undergrad. High School Ex had come down to Chicago, a bunch of us soccer fans had snagged tickets, and off we were to finally let off some of the steam that had been bubbling around (can steam bubble) for the past 9-13 days.

Now, I'm a competitive person. And I hate the Chicago Fire, having been a lifelong (well, lifelong since 1995) fan of the Metrostars (and no, I do not call them the Red Bulls). The Chicago Fire was evil. Satanic! Sell-outs! In short, they were good while we were not. So I expected to go and have a fantastic time booing and hissing at the players, the coaches and the "Barn Burners," their *special* fan section.

I did not expect to sob hysterically.

In retrospect I'm not sure why I was so surprised, although I do vaguely recall not being much of a crier prior to college. I was more of the stoic, laugh-when-you-want-to-cry-and-if-you-must-you-very-must-run-upstairs-find-a-pillow-and-shove-your-face-in-it.

Ha. Seriously.

So when the announcer came over the loudspeakers and asked us in English, Spanish and Polish to rise for the national anthem, I was somewhat shocked to find that my reaction went from bemusement that Polish was included to utter hysteria.

In 2 seconds flat.

It was the first time I had heard the national anthem since the memorial service I had attended at home in NJ on September 14, the night before I left for Chicago. That night, candle in one hand, my mother's sweater clenched tightly in the other, I didn't cry - I hadn't cried all week. I sat there, my entire body cold, as we honored the first 10 or so victims that we knew about from my hometown. I was surrounded by family and friends. I felt deep despair, yet shielded from it somehow.

Not so that day at Soldier Field.

As whatever 15-year-old blonde chick from the far South Side started to sing, I found myself completely overwhelmed in a way that horrified me. HSE patted my hair and held my hand, but that was in no way enough. As the young woman sang "and the rockets red glare/the bombs bursting in air" I howled like, well, a howitzer and tried to excuse myself, but couldn't move. As she asked "oh say does that star spangled banner yet wave" and the cheers rose from the crowd (the crowd not staring at me in disbelief), I tried to mop up my face and clap, but broke down as she ended tremulously with "the land of the free and the home of the brave".

It was, in short, embarassing.

I'm not a horribly patriotic person, at least in the anthem-and-flag sense. Never really have been. On Again Off Again Ex was shocked by my cavalier attitude towards the flag and even more so when I explained, "I grew up in NJ. If you hung flags over your house, they were probably Italian, German or Irish flags. Not American ones." Shortly after that day at Soldier Field, we went into Afghanistan and not too too long after that we attacked Iraq. My shortlived fervence about the flag died that day in March, and ever since then, including (I'm slightly ashamed to admit) the night of the Virginia Tech shooting when I was at the Yankee game, I've stood dutifully for the anthem, but no more moved by it than I would be by "Rockabye Baby" - a song you've known forever, but barely ever think about.

Not so tonight.

I was sitting here between push-up sets waiting for the Daily Show to go on and I decided to start making my playlist for Tuesday morning. I have several guests coming into town, plus Rachel and her bf and another friend of hers, and we are all getting up before the asscrack of dawn to make the trek into the District. Since I will still be hungover from one of the balls the night before, I thought it might be a good idea to have a little bit of music to wake me up, cheer everyone else up, and REV US UP for the history we will be a part of.

Whew, I'm inspired just thinking about it.

So I start to put songs on it. "Yes We Can" of course. "Signed Sealed and Delivered" - check! Some Bruce. Some Peter Paul and Mary. Some Queen.

We ARE the fucking champions.

Then I start to lose my train of thought, and therefore interest. I use the google to try to find inspiration, and I find a whole host of patriotic songs - My Country Tis of Thee, America the Beautiful, God Bless America. Right! I think. This is about AMERICA.

Duh.

So I go to find a copy of the Star Spangled Banner, thinking that much like Reveille (spelling?), that trumpety song you heard at camp, it would stir people to wake up, and at the very least, piss them off enough to get out of bed to figure out how to turn it off. So I get to a website that has free downloads of the song, and I click on one. It starts to play the John Phillip Sousa Band version.

And I burst into tears.

What a strange reaction, I am thinking, as I'm trying to wipe my cheeks. What the hell am I doing? Why am I crying? All I want is some music to play for President Obama's signing in... and the tears start anew.

Ahhhhhhh.

Anyway, now that I've gone on about my smug little "I am such a good little American" I need something from you guys - songs! After the incident with the national anthem I decided it was time to call it a night. So tell me - what do you think should be on my playlist. It should be inspiring. It should be exciting.

It CAN make me cry.

Let me know! What would make YOU want to get up, get happy and walk 2 miles in the sub-freezing cold to stand with 4 million of your closest friends to crane your neck at a jumbotron?

Hey, it beats running upstairs, shoving your face in a pillow and trying to snuff out the amazing emotion of this moment.