So apparently Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce are getting married on the Fourth of July.
And I gotta tell you, I think they’ve officially surpassed the United States of America in popularity.
Think about this.
It’s America’s 250th birthday.
Two hundred and fifty years!
Revolution.
The Constitution.
The Civil War.
The moon landing.
And somewhere in a newsroom, an editor looked at all that and said:
“Yeah, yeah, the republic is fine. But do we have drone footage of Taylor arriving?”
That’s where we are.
I turned on the news expecting fireworks, patriotism, maybe a story about the Founding Fathers.
Instead, I got a panel discussion about Travis Kelce’s tuxedo options.
There was a fashion expert.
A relationship expert.
And, I swear to God, a body language expert.
A body language expert!
Apparently we’ve gone from studying Thomas Jefferson to studying whether Travis scratched his nose in a way that indicates long-term commitment.
Can you imagine George Washington hearing this?
“I crossed the Delaware for THIS?”
And honestly, I get it.
Taylor Swift may be the most powerful person in America.
Not the President.
Not Congress.
Taylor Swift.
If Taylor announced tomorrow that Delaware should be invaded, we’d all be halfway there by lunchtime wearing friendship bracelets.
Meanwhile, Congress can’t agree on what day it is.
And let’s be honest.
This wedding is going to dominate the Fourth of July.
Families all over America are going to be standing outside watching fireworks while somebody yells:
“Shut up! Taylor’s changing into her reception outfit!”
The poor fireworks guy has spent six months preparing.
He’s got drones.
He’s got synchronized music.
He’s got a finale with 10,000 shells.
And people are going to be looking at their phones going:
“Did Jason Kelce cry yet?”
Of course he cried.
Jason Kelce cries during football games.
He cries during retirement speeches.
I think he cried ordering mozzarella sticks once.
But maybe this is the most American thing ever.
Two hundred and fifty years ago, we fought a revolution to escape a monarchy.
And now we’ve voluntarily created our own royal family.
The difference is our king plays football, our queen writes breakup songs, and we’re all perfectly okay with it.
God bless America.
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