The World Cup has turned America into a discovery channel for the rest of the world.
And they are not handling it well.
In the best possible way.
Here is what they are discovering:
Free public restrooms. Europeans pay every time.
Free water at every restaurant. Just appears.
Free refills. Coffee. Sodas. Iced tea. Unlimited.
Free chips and salsa before you even order.
Free warm bread with dinner.
Ice in drinks like civilized people.
Air conditioning everywhere. Not a moral debate. A fact.
Parking lots attached to the actual place you are going.
Drive throughs where the food comes to the car while you sit in it.
Ranch dressing by the gallon.
Tex-Mex that cannot be explained only experienced.
Dental care that actually works.
Bucceeโs. There are no words for Bucceeโs.
Then they found the grocery stores.
Five of them within one mile.
Each one the size of an aircraft hangar.
Burgers. Steaks. Brisket. Ribs. Pulled pork. Lamb. Veal. Every cut of every animal ever domesticated by human civilization available in one refrigerated aisle at ten in the morning on a Tuesday.
The Germans stood in the meat section for forty five minutes.
In silence.
Processing.
They finally understand why we do not have trains.
We have roads wide enough for the cars we actually drive.
Parking lots the size of small European countries.
Airports in every city worth visiting.
Why would we need trains.
The Germans are taking ranch home by the bottle.
The Dutch found queso and briefly lost the ability to speak.
The Japanese are photographing HEB like it is the Louvre.
The Czechs are weeping in West, Texas.
Welcome to America.
Everything is free, enormous, air conditioned, comes with chips, and has five grocery stores within a mile that will sell you any cut of any animal you have ever imagined.
Write that down. ๐ฆ
I ordered one pancake in America. The waitress wrote it down and said, "one short stack."
Short. I am a small and humble man. A short stack sounded perfect for me. I waited with a calm heart.
She returned carrying three pancakes, each the size of my face, stacked into a tower, with a block of butter on top sliding down the sides like slow lava.
This was the short one. I did not dare ask what the tall one looked like. Some knowledge a man is not ready for.
I ate for forty minutes. I was not full. I was afraid. The tower did not shrink. I am fairly sure it was growing back faster than I could eat it.
I had to surrender. I left half. In Japan, leaving food is a deep shame. So I leaned in close and apologized to the pancakes directly, in a low voice, one by one.
The waitress asked if I wanted a box. I did not know food could be taken into custody. I declined. I did not want it following me home.
In America, is the short stack truly the small one?
I need time to prepare my spirit before I ever face the tall one.
Highly recommend โHow to Rule the World.โ Itโs the social commentary book of the 'fake it till you make it' era. Written by the 17-year-old who brought down Stanfordโs president, it shows how a toxic mix of power, money, and hubris has transformed the school and SV more broadly.
For an artist this is one of the most powerful experiences of a career.
You absolutely can, perhaps for just a moment, know that you have become timeless.
It is the reflection of your music that is the perspectiveโฆ
Chris Evans spent weeks working on his timing for the elevator scene so his movements would line up with Journey, but much of the now-iconic dancing ended up being improvised on the day of filming.