Happy Birthday, America. Sorry the Press Ruined Your Party.

In fairness, you did throw one hell of a bash.

My Saturday morning walk was a good three hours before the neighborhood parade, but the scene was already giving “let’s get this party started” energy. Patriotic bunting hung from every other balcony and eave and miniature replicas of Old Glory lined driveways with military precision. If it had wheels, it was festooned with red, white, and blue banners and star-shaped twinkly lights. American flags flew proudly from the backs of pickup trucks and the roofs of tricked-out golf carts. It was hard to find even a bicycle or scooter without streamers or bedazzled spokes. Maybe nobody can spell the word semiquincentennial (I had to look it up twice and my spellcheck is still screaming about it), but my neighbors sure know how to celebrate one.

Downtown looked like an Old Navy ad come to life, with liberty lovers swaddled in crown-to-sole stars and stripes, glitter clinging stubbornly to their sweaty cheeks. I lost count of the Happy Birthday America caps and “two fiddy” T-shirts (only in America could 5,000 Etsy sellers be cashing in on the same bit). The whole scene landed somewhere between a Norman Rockwell painting and a tailgate party; the kind of all-in Americana that made you realize—despite what the media would very much like the world to believe—that proud to be an American isn’t just a Lee Greenwood song.

In the evening, we did what you’re supposed to do on the Fourth: we barbecued with friends, watched fireworks, and went to bed feeling fat, fulfilled, and fortunate to live in the land of the (presently) free and the home of the (historically) brave.

First thing Sunday morning, I watched Trump’s speech celebrating America’s 250th birthday—but not before playing a quick little game. I wondered how long it would take the collective press to find a way to turn one of the most patriotic celebrations in our nation’s history into a Donald Trump takedown.

It turns out, not long at all.

Here were just a few of the headlines waiting for me:

“Trump, in July 4 speech, says he ‘wasn’t treated that well’ despite American right to equal justice.” (The Hill)

“Trump throws jabs at Dems in 250th speech but says ‘best is yet to come’ for US.” (NewsNation)

“Mount Rushmore to the Mall, Trump praises America’s 250th — and himself.” (USA Today)

“At July 4 speech, Trump stumps for controversial SAVE America Act...” (Fortune)

Needless to say, I was ready for a Trump-style parade of personal successes; bloated boasts about THE GREATEST ECONOMY EVER, THE BEST POLLS, RECORD-BREAKING EVERYTHING, NOBODY’S EVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE IT. Instead, I got a passionate, unapologetically nostalgic, 40-minute history lesson.

POTUS kicked things off with the Declaration of Independence, the “miracle” of America’s founding, and a reminder that 56 men once signed a document with the full understanding it might get them hanged—arguably the last bipartisan act of courage to come out of Washington.

From there, he moved through the birth of the republic—Lexington, Saratoga, the Constitution—with the enthusiasm of a man who genuinely believes the Founders nailed it. Freedom of speech. Religious liberty. Equal justice under the law. The whole dusty old bundle of rights we keep pretending are optional whenever they become inconvenient.

Then came the flags. So many flags. A Stars and Stripes greatest hits album. The Yorktown flag. Lincoln’s casket flag. Iwo Jima, Pearl Harbor, D-Day, Checkpoint Charlie. Picture the Smithsonian launching a TikTok account and doing a live unboxing and you’ll have a solid visual.

Trump honored Medal of Honor recipients, Pearl Harbor survivors, D-Day veterans, Korean War heroes, and Gold Star families before working through an all-star roster of American icons: William Carney, Theodore Roosevelt, Francis Scott Key, Davy Crockett, Annie Oakley, the Wright brothers. He spoke of the Second Amendment and Venezuela and the Brooklyn Bridge. It was optimistic. It was earnest. Above all, it was unmistakably pro-America.

I kept waiting for the narcissism. It never came.

Did he dip into politics? Of course he did. (He is, after all, the President of the United States addressing the planet, not Billy Crystal hosting the Oscars.) He praised the SAVE America Act. He celebrated military recruiting. He touted the economy. He blasted the growing embrace of Marxism here.

“America will never be a communist country,” Trump promised. “Won’t happen. The communist system is the opposite of the American system, and the communist system has never worked. It’s like a cancer. You’ve got to cut it out. You’ve got to cut it out fast.”

He joked that maybe this was his “third term” before quickly adding he didn’t want any controversy. He made a brief crack that he “wasn’t treated that well” under our system of equal justice—34 felony convictions later, it’s a fair point—then wisely moved on with a good-natured “but we won’t get into that.”

Maybe that’s worth a mention; maybe not. But if that’s what you lead with after watching a monologue overwhelmingly dedicated to celebrating America’s history, heroes, symbols, and founding principles, you’re not covering a speech. You’re reducing forty minutes to forty seconds and praying nobody bothers to check your math.

Up until the very moment Trump took the stage, the media was gleefully predicting, exaggerating, and celebrating the many ways the event could and would go sideways. The epic heat. The thunderstorms. The evacuations. The artists “bailing en masse.” Low turnout. Empty booths. Boycotts. Production chaos. A stage ceiling that literally fell on the show. They didn’t even try to hide their delight. Imagine watching thousands of Americans turn out and deciding the real story is how badly you want them to be miserable.

The ever-prescient Atlantic knew this back in May.

The Comedic Spin of the Week Award goes to USA Today, though, for solemnly informing readers that Donald Trump—you will be shocked to learn—completely flouted decades of presidential custom with all of that rah-rah-go-U.S.A.-we’re-so-great nonsense.

“For 200 years, on the notable birthdays of one of America’s founding documents, Trump’s predecessors have taken a more solemn tone,” the outlet wrote. “They made almost no mention of themselves and often cited the tasks the nation still faced.”

Two-hundred years sounds like a sweeping historical consensus—until you realize the “precedent” consists of a group of guys who could share an Uber. In all of history, there have been precisely three previous “milestone anniversary” addresses. Three. Ulysses S. Grant in 1876. Calvin Coolidge in 1926. Gerald Ford in 1976. That’s the entire sample size. Apparently, three speeches spread across two centuries now constitute a sacred 200-year Oval Office tradition.

So no, it wasn’t some unhinged victory-lap. It wasn’t an angry, defensive, live-streamed diss on the Democrat party. It was closer to your grandfather taking you around the living room and pointing triumphantly at photos on the wall—except the photos were flags that had witnessed some of our country’s most punishing moments, and the framed medals were living veterans being honored for their service and bravery. You’d have to be a tiny bit dead inside to not be moved.

Could he have addressed the world without a single self-congratulatory aside? I mean, I’ve toilet-trained three cats in my lifetime, so I’m hesitant to speak in absolutes. But expecting Trump to give a speech with zero Trump in it is like getting mad that your cupcake has frosting. That’s kind of the deal. If you only like crumpets, maybe you should move to England.

The media wants you to think Trump’s birthday toast was a preening back-pat session. They’d be thrilled if you skipped tuning in yourself and just took their word for it. I watched it. It wasn’t. I bet if you watch it too, you’ll come away feeling proud, grateful, and convinced this is the best deal going anywhere on Earth—clickbait, catfights, and all.

Happy birthday, America. You’re not perfect—but you look pretty good for 250. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.