I’m living in a strange fever dream, friends. I was told no one from overseas would want to come to America by our media. We’re too extreme, too loud, too—hell, everything’s just wrong with us if you listen for ten minutes to CNN or MSNOW.

And then all of these beautiful European visitors came to America and reminded us all this country is pretty fucking badass.

We’ve had the Scots take over Boston and damn near drink the town dry. This Freddy fella from Germany has renewed my love of the American South and dined with Ron DeSantis. And the Norweigans who try Chik-Fil-A’s “spicy chicken burger” swear they’re never going back.

So in the spirit of seeing the world through our friends’ eyes, let’s examine a few things that make this country the envy of the planet.

First things first. Central air. Do you have any idea how many Europeans die in heat waves every year because most of them don’t have air conditioning? It’s stupid, and yet most of us take this wonderful invention for granted.

I love Tennessee. I love Tennessee in this time of year when the humidity dials up to “You’re Breathing Soup” or “Satan’s Taint” temperatures. Do y’all know why I enjoy it so much? Because I can go into my house where the temperature is set to a nice comfy sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit and avoid that fucking heat, that’s why. It’s also why I usually wear a light jacket wherever I go. I also travel to and from work in a luxurious frosty cold car with a temperature slightly cooler than Juneau, Alaska.

On occasion when I go to work these days I pass one of the happiest places in all of America: Bucc-ee’s. If there were ever a monument to American excellence and our spirit of sheer “hold-my-beerism” than Bucc-ee’s, I have yet to see it. Bucc-ee’s is what you get when a Texan snorts a huge line of cocaine before drawing a gas station. It’s the one place where you can refill your RV, buy a kayak, matching table settings and a shit ton of beef jerky while you order brisket sandwiches and candied pecans.

Come for the moderately priced gasoline. Stay for the beaver nuggets. That’s the legend of the beaver in a red hat folks are falling in love with and I fully get it.

When you go to a restaurant and order a beverage, there’s two things we take for granted in America. The first is the ice that keeps our liquids so wonderfully cold. The second? Free refills! We get refills at damn near every turn brought to us by smiling servers who just think it’s an offense for a guest’s glass to go empty. What a country!

And ice! I have yet to understand why Europe doesn’t use ice in their beverages like we do, and yet they marvel at it when they arrive on our shores. Well God bless ya, folks, but it’s just frozen water we put in our drinks so everything’s nice and frosty. Just the way George Washington and Thomas Jefferson intended.

Our nation is also home to the best barbecue anyone will ever find. I know this will start a debate among the rank and file about who has the best (Texas is the only correct answer) and that’s okay. Those visiting America fall in love with our ability to smoke and sauce meats until they fall off the bone and make you want to slap your mother because it tastes so good. No cuisine I’ve ever experienced in my travels around the world will ever top Texas beef brisket.

America is a nation of excess, sure, but it’s a good excess. We’re big, loud, and friendly as hell because that’s how it’s always been for 250 years. We live life to the fullest, we eat and drink till we’re singing “Sweet Caroline” from the top of a lamp post in Boston. Then we go home, watch the football one plays with one’s hands, and get up to go to work the next day.

Is our nation perfect? It’s pretty damn close, despite what the haters will tell you.

And I wouldn’t trade this country for any other.

Thanks, Europeans, for reminding us how good we have it here. Sometimes even us jaded Colonialists need a bit of a refresher on why we dumped all that tea in Boston Harbor in the first place.

See y’all next time!