I want my old America back

There's a song going round and round in my head. It's not one of those pesky advertising jingles that get lodged in one's brain from time to time. I've been playing this song on purpose.

It's a Springsteen song called "Nothing Man," from his album The Rising. He wrote that album in the wake of the 9/11, so it carries a distinctively dark edge, and "Nothing Man" is the darkest cut of all.

The tale is told from the perspective of an emergency responder, a cop or more likely a firefighter, one of the heroes who plunged into the abyss on that terrible day in 2001. The rescuer survived the carnage, but his life was changed forever by the horrors he encountered, and the song ends with him contemplating an object of "pearl and silver" on his night table, asking the Lord for the courage to do what he feels he must.

I haven't thought much about 9/11 for a long time, but this song really brought it all crashing back. That day changed our world, and especially our country, in so many ways, not many of them good. I recall in the aftermath the outpouring of support we had from the rest of the world, what seemed like waves of genuine affection and respect, sort of a reminder that no matter how many differences we might have with our friends abroad, America was still the light of the world, a beacon of hope, what everyone else aspired to be.

Well, those days are gone. Our country is despised. All of that good will and unity were squandered on the blood-soaked oil fields of Babylon. For all the good we do around the globe -- the humanitarian gestures and aid with no strings attached -- we are viewed with fear, suspicion and contempt on every continent, and to tell the truth, I'm not so sure those folks are so wrong to question our motives.

This will sound incredibly naïve, I know, but I really miss the idea of the America I grew up with, even if that America wasn't always real. I liked the idea that we were the good guys, slow to anger but a mighty enemy should some bad guy make the mistake of pissing us off. It was a good feeling to know that we were admired throughout the world, that we set the bar, that if given the choice, most people would want to be like us or even move here if they could.

Those days are gone. Not only have we acted like Darth Vader in our relations with the rest of the world, our economy has tanked, our rankings in science, education, health care, manufacturing and innovation have tumbled. Other nations have surpassed us is countless categories. Here at home, we bicker and fight and are so completely divided that it is hard to even have a political discussion with people we know because it could easily degenerate into obscenities or fisticuffs. Everything is so over-the-top dramatic, so entrenched, so us-or-them. There's no such thing as a civil conversation or an honest difference of opinion anymore. Isn't everyone tired of this shit?

A longtime friend of mine named Don Williams, a man known for being both wise and crazy, once told me that "all politicians are into leather." Since Don has run and won scores of political campaigns in Nevada, I figured he knew what he was talking about. He wasn't describing a fetish for tanned animal hides. Instead, he said, all politicians are "into the leather that's on the chair that sits in the Oval office." In other words, they all dream of one day becoming president, from the school board candidate to the city council hopeful to the HOA vice chair, they all envision a road that will lead them to the White House, even though they might not admit it. And those Quixotes who dream this impossible dream are not so much motivated by a desire to help their fellow man, but secretly yearn for personal acclaim.

I think there's a connection between the secret leather fetish of politicians and the mess we are in. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't get the feeling from many political hopefuls that they are in it for us, that they view their run for office as a truly benevolent gesture for the betterment of their fellow Americans. They do it for power, for money, for ego and, more important, for ideology. Ideology triumphs all. Party trumps country. Partisanship crushes nationalism. That's the way it seems, anyway. And the level of vitriol is astonishing. Dare to disagree on a matter of policy and you're a commie, a Muslim terrorist, not a "real American."

I've got a feeling that big chunks of Las Vegas probably don't qualify as being genuinely American under the current definition. And since I'm one of those who does not think East of Eden should be stripped from the shelves of public libraries, since I think stem cell research to cure diseases seems reasonable, since I do not think the Old Testament has any place being taught in high school science classrooms or that men walked with dinosaurs 6,000 years ago, I suppose I'm not much of a real American, either.

I'm sick of being told who is and who isn't a real American by the likes of Sean Hannity or Rush Limbaugh, as if those windbags should be the source of anyone's marching orders or moral guidelines. I'm damned tired of hearing that disagreeing with the president or with his war is tantamount to treason.

In the "Nothing Man" song, the heartsick firefighter struggles with the consequences of decisions made by men who aspire to greatness, men whose tiniest actions -- or inactions -- have such profound effects on the rest of us. We're the folks who must live with the fallout from the decisions made in the halls of power, the regular folks who've seen their country crumble, their savings evaporate, their homes in foreclosure, their sons and daughters sent off to war. I just don't get the sense that the people making these decisions are really thinking about our best interests. It's all about winning ... winning the election ... winning the prize ... no matter how many smears must be leveled, no matter how many lies must be told. Debate and disagreement are healthy, but the rancor we have now, the vile lows we stoop to, are about winning, not discourse. I look forward to the day when Republicans retake their party and get back into the ring.

Maybe that America I remember as a kid -- the good-guy America -- never really existed. But I want it back anyway.

George Knapp is a veteran investigative reporter for KLAS-TV Channel 8. You can reach him at gknapp@klastv.com.