“I’m an American, and I believe in God.”

Recently, ABC News ran a nice clip about a gentle, quiet man who works hard for a living and has peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and coffee for dinner. Trouble is, for the first time in his life, he can’t pay his bills, and has applied for food stamps. (Which ABC News says now 1 in 10 Americans collect. 1 in 10?!) He gave a tour of his apartment—the empty freezer and fridge, his outdated and temperamental appliances, and minimal possessions. More doom and gloom: this man is a trained pilot and Air Force veteran who now mops floors overnight at a hospital to make ends meet. These days, the story is norm.

But by golly, the man still has his pride. And his faith in Uncle Sam and the Big Man Upstairs.

Reporter: “What do you think about all this? About how your life has changed?”
Penniless man: “I’ll be fine. I’m an American and I believe in God.”

Huh?
Time for some tough love folks. Yes, faith (the religious kind) gets people through some desolate times. But faith in the Red, White and Blue? Just because you’re an American you will prevail? I don’t know about you, but this is the first time in my short history of being alive where it’s proven—day after day—that working hard and livin’ simple just ain’t enough. The essential American Dream is coming up a Wee. Bit. Short. Success is out the window. A more appropriate term? Survival. Last I checked, that’s not in the Great Dictionary of Patriotism.