Folks, I almost spilled my coffee reading this one. The United States is turning 250, and it seems like nobody’s really in the mood to party. I mean, I’ve seen more excitement at a timeshare presentation. Philip Gulley, a 65-year-old Quaker pastor and writer, is so disillusioned with the state of the nation that he won’t even participate in his usual July 4 family tradition of watching fireworks. When asked what he plans to do for the semiquincentennial, his reply is terse: “Nothing.” I guess you could say he’s not exactly feeling the patriotic vibe.
It turns out, Gulley’s not alone in his sentiments. A majority of Americans seem to share his discontent. National pride and satisfaction with the country’s direction have been on the decline for decades, and the mood heading into the 250th anniversary is particularly grim. Nearly 70% of Americans say that they are dissatisfied with the way things are going in the US, while about 60% say that the country’s best years are behind it. That’s a pretty bleak outlook, if you ask me.
Now, I’m not one to shy away from a good celebration, but it seems like the 250th anniversary festivities are going to be a bit of a dud. The preparations for the milestone celebration began a decade ago, but things took a turn when President Trump got involved. He created a new organization, Freedom 250, which has since upended long-anticipated plans in the nation’s capital and redirected funding meant for the bipartisan America 250 to its own operations. It’s all a bit of a mess, if you ask me.
The result is a confusing slate of dueling 250th anniversary celebrations, with the distinctions between America 250 and Freedom 250 unclear to those not following the ins and outs of the dispute. It’s like trying to keep track of a game of musical chairs, but instead of chairs, it’s celebrations. And to make matters worse, the president’s attempt to redo the reflecting pool at the Lincoln Memorial with an “American flag blue” lining ended up turning the water a murky green. I mean, who needs a functioning reflecting pool when you can have a green one, right?
Despite the lack of enthusiasm, there are some indications of patriotic fervor. Tickets for the July 3 and 4 fireworks displays at Mount Vernon sold out in May, and advance ticket sales to visit the estate on July 4 are also breaking typical records. The Museum of the American Revolution in Philadelphia reports a 17% increase in visitors this year, with June numbers up nearly 25% compared to last June. But let’s be real, folks, it’s not exactly a surprise that people want to visit historic sites. I mean, who doesn’t love a good dose of American history?
The nation’s 200th anniversary in 1976, by comparison, was a singular and inescapable force. Planning for the occasion began in 1965, and the bicentennial pervaded popular culture well before July 4, 1976. There were bicentennial-themed products galore, from stamps and coins to mugs and plates emblazoned with renderings of bald eagles and the Declaration of Independence. It was like the whole country was one big, happy family. But, as we all know, those were different times.
Fast forward to 2026, and it’s a different story altogether. The semiquincentennial seems to be a non-event for many Americans. Edie, a 66-year-old woman in Las Vegas, says she’ll be traveling most of the day and doesn’t plan to do anything special to commemorate the 250th anniversary. “I’m not interested in plugging in in any way to what’s going on in DC in this next two-week period or whatever,” she says. “I’m going to put my fingers in my ears and go ‘la la la.'” I guess you could say she’s not exactly feeling the patriotic vibe either.
In conclusion, the 250th anniversary of the United States is shaping up to be a bit of a bust. But hey, there’s always the tricentennial, right? As Edie says, “I just hope that the country is in a better place for the 300th in 2076, and that the celebrations can be more like they were in 1976 than they were in 2026.” Until then, I’ll just stick to my coffee and watch the whole thing from the sidelines. After all, as the saying goes, “you can’t make this stuff up.”
Armchair patriot. Believes in the free market, cold beer, and that there’s always a guy named George behind every CNN segment.
Former remote-throwing champion turned #1 couch commentator on liberal panic in the media. Born in Texas (or so his mug says), he earned a degree in Fake Newsology & Beer Philosophy from YouTube University.
