You know what restored my faith in humanity this week?
Not Congress.
Not cable news.
Not social media.
The Scottish.
That’s right. The Scottish.
I’ve been down here in Miami, and apparently half of Scotland has decided to move here temporarily.
They call themselves the Tartan Army.
And if you’ve never seen them, imagine if a St. Patrick’s Day parade got lost, wandered through an airport, and accidentally became a soccer fan club.
These people were in Boston a few days ago.
Now they’re in Miami.
Tomorrow they’re watching Scotland play Brazil.
And somehow every one of them looks like they’re having the greatest day of their life.
Meanwhile, Americans are walking around angry because somebody got their Starbucks order wrong.
The Scots flew 4,000 miles.
They’re wearing wool skirts in 95-degree heat.
They’re sunburned.
They’re dehydrated.
They’ve spent what appears to be their retirement fund on airfare.
And they’re still happier than anybody I’ve met all year.
You see a guy standing there in a kilt, sweating through three layers of fabric.
You say, “You okay?”
He says, “BEST DAY OF MY LIFE, MATE!”
Buddy, you’re melting.
Your legs are the same color as a lobster.
“AYE, IT’S BRILLIANT!”
I love that attitude.
Americans travel differently.
We arrive somewhere and immediately start complaining.
“The hotel is only four stars.”
“The Uber was late.”
“The Wi-Fi isn’t fast enough.”
The Scots show up and they’re amazed by everything.
“Look at that palm tree!”
You’ve got palm trees at home?
“No, but THIS ONE’S IN MIAMI!”
They’re like golden retrievers with passports.
And the thing I love most?
Nobody seems angry.
Nobody’s yelling politics.
Nobody’s fighting on the internet.
They’re just happy to be alive.
Happy to meet people.
Happy to have a beer.
Happy to watch a game.
Happy to stand in the sunshine.
And honestly, that’s what hit me.
We’ve spent so much time lately arguing about everything that we forget how much fun it is just to be around people.
Then these guys show up from the other side of the Atlantic wearing kilts and singing songs, and suddenly everybody’s smiling.
For one brief moment, nobody cares who you voted for.
Nobody cares where you’re from.
Nobody cares what team you support.
Everybody’s just laughing together.
And that’s when I realized something.
Maybe restoring faith in humanity isn’t complicated.
Maybe sometimes it just looks like a bunch of sunburned Scots wandering around Miami in kilts, reminding the rest of us how to enjoy being human.
And honestly?
That’s a lesson worth importing. 🍻🏴🇺🇸
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