O! say can you see why we should change this anthem

I have an old friend we call Earnest Kurt who has a tendency to get worked up about certain things the rest of us might be fully willing to ignore. One of those things is his slightly obsessive belief that we as a country give short shrift to Arbor Day. By his account, the day receives none of the attention other, less deserving holidays receive, largely because, as he puts it, trees just aren't sexy.

"It's a failure of imagination," the earnest one insists. "There's no reason Arbor Day can't be just as big as Christmas, at the very least St. Patrick's Day. They just don't market it is the problem."

Needless to say, by the last week of April, most of us find reasons to avoid Kurt.

Given all that, I hesitate to bring this up again, but I really do think we need to do something about this national anthem of ours.

I realize I've mentioned this before. In fact, I've mentioned it numerous times through the years and to pretty much anyone who would listen. Anytime I sit through a ballgame or symphony opening it comes out, a grumbling tirade against stutter-step meters, unsingable melody and the rest of the song's notable weaknesses. Unlike my buddy's unreasonable tree rants, which tend to run seasonal, my unreasonable rants come all year long.

But it's Independence Day, when we all gather to celebrate what remains of our freedom by eating obscene amounts of red meat and blowing stuff up, that the whole thing hits the hardest. Friday's Star Spangled Spectacular will no doubt serve as a perfect example. The whole event promises to be patriotic perfection until that inevitable moment toward the end of the night when some poor schmuck is forced to stand up and, in a tradition of public humiliation that goes back nearly a century, sing the national anthem.

As any home-schooled kid knows, "The Star-Spangled Banner" was written in 1814 by Francis "At Least It's Not Susan" Scott Key. The poem was set to the tune of the English drinking song "To Anacreon in Heaven," which, next to burning the White House and inventing the Spice Girls, is the worst thing the Brits have done to us - so far.

In 1931, in a moment of national self-flagellation that would make the Japanese seem impenitent, Congress declared the song our national anthem, disappointing a coalition from three Southern states who had proposed "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" and a populist from Milwaukee who lobbied tirelessly for "You Can Have Her, I Don't Want Her, She's Too Fat For Me."

Since that day, good, bad and indifferent singers have done their best to navigate the nearly unsingable tune at every ballgame, civic event and mall opening in the nation. The song has been rapped, jazzed, souled, swanked, barbershopped and belted in useless efforts to make it listenable. But in the end, the song has won.

And so, each year I suggest a national movement to switch out the anthem for something a little more navigable and, let's face it, hipper. This being a presidential election year, we could get the presumptives involved.

I could see Barack Obama suggesting something that captures his own multicultural past, a mix of traditional American sounds blended over an ostinato of African drum, something like Bob Marley's "Buffalo Soldier" but with a couple of "bombs bursting" lyrics tossed in to balance out the "One Love" vibe. At the same time, John McCain could suggest something representing his own culture. I assume Lawrence Welk is dead by now, but I think Myron Floren is still around.

We don't have to write a whole new anthem. In fact, it might be easier on us all if we chose something everyone already knows the words to. In the past I have suggested the Clash's classic "Rock the Casbah," a song that couples a glorious, fist-pumping chorus with a lyrical relevance to our situation in Iraq, which, given our current Middle East policy, may remain relevant for generations.

I'm in no way bound to the Clash. I have an almost equal enthusiasm for other potential anthems. What say we start opening baseball games with the Golden Earring classic "Radar Love," or maybe Sammy Hagar's "I Can't Drive 55," the Kiss anthem "Rock and Roll All Night" or Queen's "We Are the Champions."

If we really want an anthem anybody can sing we could go with the Gary Glitter stadium classic "Rock 'n' Roll Part Two." Sticking your fist in the air and grunting, "Hey!" strikes me as significantly more patriotic than mumbling over "rockets red glare" while bolstering yourself for that final, screeching "land of the free" moment. Plus, you'll no longer have to bring in real singers to perform the anthem. Grab a drunk from the bleachers and go at it.

I'm sure there are a few of you who consider it un-American to even consider changing the anthem. You're thinking it's a great, patriotic and lasting work worthy of a sacred place in the heart of all patriots. And you are right about all that. But later today, when you're struggling with the high notes and trying to explain to your kids what the heck a rampart is, just consider my point. I'm betting there's nothing in "I Can't Drive 55," you need to explain.