I see London. I see France.

My neighbor stopped by yesterday to drop off some tomatoes.
That’s the cool thing about living in the country. Everybody’s growing produce. We get tomatoes, green peppers, banana peppers and potatoes handed to us on a daily basis.

Anyhow, I said my thanks to her and we started to talk about life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. Then, the conversation started to dwindle. Most of the time when I hit a conversation pothole, I always have this little rabbit that I pull out of my pocket. It's called the “So-what-are-you-doing-for-vacation" question.

“So, what are you doing for vacation?”

“Oh, Sam and I are heading over to Europe. We’re going to go to see the Eiffel Tower. It’s the most beautiful place in the world, hands down.”

“Oh really?” I asked. “Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon?”

“No.”

“Seattle?”

“No.”

“New York City?”

“No.”

“Great Lakes?”

“No.”

“New Orleans?”

“No.”

“Biggest ball of twine?”

“No.”

“Yellowstone National Park?”

“Nope.”

You get the drift.

Now, how can you say someplace overseas is the most beautiful place in the world when you haven’t even checked out the whole United States? Personally, I think it’s bullshit, but that’s me. I also think waaaayyyy to many people visit Myrtle Beach and the Outer Banks then they get their little fucking bumper stickers with OBX on them like they’re in some fucking private club. Fuck that shit. But I digress,

I have a theory about people traveling overseas and I’m pretty sure it has something to do with the hit movie European Vacation. You remember? The successful sequel to National Lampoon’s Vacation, where Clark Griswold and company win a European Vacation on a game show dressed like pigs. The Griswolds then go visit London, Paris, Germany and Rome. NOTE: You even get to see some nice German titties! Drool!

In any event, I think all of the United States went to see that film and Tyler Durden spliced some subliminal messages a la’ Fight Club that said “VISIT EUROPE” and “EIFFEL TOWER IS RAD” and “LONDON IS THE TOPS”. Then all of the little lemmings went out, got their passport, bought their little carry-on luggage with wheels and flew off to Europe so they could rent a car in England and say "Look kids! Big Ben. Parliament" over and over and over again.

Hey, people! We’ve got 50 fucking beautiful states to check out here! You want tropical? Go to Hawaii. You want cold? Go to Alaska. You want beauty? There’s Arizona, Montana, South Dakota, Colorado and Utah. You want fucking amusement parks? Come to Ohio, the Roller Coaster Capital of the World!

Again, you get my point.

If I had my way, I’d make it a requirement that you MUST visit all 50 states (including Washington D.C.) before you’re allowed to go overseas, and that includes our neighbors Mexico and Canada. Basically, when you’re born you’ll get a little tiny microchip implanted into your forearm. For the hell of it, let’s just call it the Number of the Beast:

As you cross a state, the Number of the Beast microchip will record each state you’ve been in. It's almost like one of those tracking devices you wear when you run the 5k Race for the Cure. Finally, when you pass into your final 50th state (and let's not forget Washington D.C.), a passport will arrive in the mail in 7-10 business days.

Voila! You’ve seen the United States. Now go see the fucking world!

You’ve earned it.