HIGHWAY TO THE DANGER ZONE

As summer, the (theoretical) season for leisure and relaxation, comes to a close around here, I've come to realize more fully just how utterly taboo a good number of our accepted forms of warm weather entertainments in this country would be in most other parts of the world.

For example... the air show; a time-honored tradition in the cities and suburbs of our fair country since the post-war era. Last month, as the Air & Water show set up shop here on Chicago's lake front, millions (yes millions) of hard working middle class Americans packed up picnic baskets, grabbed the kiddies and the lawn chairs and headed down to hunt out the perfect spot to spend a Sunday afternoon celebrating the end of summer by watching military war craft normally used in carpet bombings and air raids gracefully swoop and twirl around for their entertainment.

Every year it's the same situation: you're going about your business, heading to work or grabbing a sandwich on your lunch break, when super-sonic F-15 Bombers screech over head, bringing everyone on the sidewalk to a halt, hand blocking panicked faces as an unearthly sound-barrier-shattering roar pierces the city. The collective memory kicks in, and fear-grimaces melt into smiles as all remember the air and water show taking place over the weekend. Gotta get out and see that one, kids!

In a country where, moreover, we're fat & happy (or at least fat), screeching war planes dredge up fond memories of summers gone by spent listening to classic rock blasting out of decrepit speakers, knocking back a slurpee and a big soft pretzel while watching death ships perform aerial acrobatics. In innumerable other countries, screeching warplanes send the masses scattering, eliciting fear of being completely obliterated by a cruise missile, which, to be fair, is really the appropriate reaction.

Of course, there are a litany of other forms wholesome American summer funstuffs that really drive home the myriad reasons why other countries aren't always so crazy about us.

Eating contests, anyone?

Giant, mutant vegetables at the County Fair?

Grand Funk Railroad?

Welcome, Fall, I embrace you.... your hay rack rides, haunted houses and apple bobs aren't nearly as middle finger-y to the rest of the world.