Just a moment here, “God Bless America” is an overly sweet, simple-minded ditty produced by a Tin Pan Alley production team (albeit a very skilled one) for the lowbrow vaudeville stage. It is deliberately set to a tune so simple and undemanding that the late Lawrence Welk could sight-read it on the accordion, even in his present deceased state. It is fluff. It is Kate Smith stuff with about as much substance as replays of Ozzie and Harriet. It is right in there with “When the Moon Comes Over the Mountain.”
“America the Beautiful” is a travelogue. Its lyrics are no more than a trip across Nebraska. It says nothing about resolve and principal and courage. It describes pretty scenic. It is a real estate developer’s brochure, not a national song of strength and unity and pride.
“The Star Spangled Banner” is a hymn of stern resistance to unwarranted aggression by a foreign power and of a grim determination to defend and uphold the principals of the republic. A lawyer wrote it, you say. Fine. Lawyers wrote the Constitution (while, I am constrained to say, physicians were sticking leaches on George Washington); a lawyer wrote the Gettysburg Address. So what?
It’s the tune of an English drinking song, you say. I’ve done a fair amount of drinking to the tune of “Rock of Ages.” It hard to sing, you say. No it isn’t, it’s just hard to sing with out effort, but so is the chorus from Beethoven’s 9th, and that doesn’t keep the EU from using it.
It says that this nation will endure the worst that is thrown at it and will continue as the home of a free people. No blather about the Lord God’s protections or purple mountains. It is our Marseilles, our Deutschland Leid, our God Save the King/Queen. Turn 70,000 people lose on this puppy on a fall afternoon and you have a moving experience.
We should, maybe, play “God Bless America” at the reveille formation at one of those old western Army posts, the trumpet dying to the notes of ”…through the night with a light from a bulb,” in the gray dawn as the sunrise cannon booms across the parade? Fifteen thousand young men and women should brace and salute as one while the band tootles on about amber waves of grain?
We might as well make “Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine” the national anthem as what has been suggested here.