It's that time of year when we try to quantify our patriotism. Flags are out, barbecue pits fired up, and Gallup has the numbers.

Americans are hand-over-heart patriotic. Seventy percent responded to a June Gallup poll that they are "extremely proud" to be American and another 20 percent are "very proud." That just leaves 10 percent who are less than proud, and John Ashcroft will not be releasing their names.

I'd like to state for the record that I'm not just "extremely proud" to be an American, I'm "extremely delighted" for so many reasons that I hardly know where to begin, but here goes.

My No. 1 reason: In the U.S. of A., patriotism is (BEG ITAL) voluntary. Right?

Well, yes, it is, though recent events have made patriotism seem something less so. As in, I'm a little worried that I don't have my flag out yet, and the neighbors may be wondering whether I'm sufficiently patriotic. I went to the doctor's office yesterday and was handed a car flag on my way out the door. I saluted the nurse.

Pressure or bonhomie? (BEG ITAL) Sir, bonhomie, (BEG ITAL) sir!

I'm all for patriotism as defined above. It's good to love your country and most of us do. It would be fair to say that I was raised to be a patriot. In my childhood home, we kids practically had to recite the Pledge to receive nourishment. John Philip Sousa was our background music. We had military drills, and I knew how to fold a flag before I could fold a T-shirt. So went my serially weird Cold War childhood in the extremely patriotic hands of my WWII pilot/father.

So, yes, I grew up loving my country. Except, I confess, it wasn't sincere. I'm sorry. I faked patriotism so I wouldn't be banished to the bomb shelter to subsist on canned beans and powdered milk. Yes, the therapy is coming along nicely.

While I probably have a higher tolerance than some for patriotic fervor, given my background, I also have a commensurately low tolerance for devotion-on-demand. When patriotism becomes expected, forced or in some notable cases, ENforced -as in the firing of columnists whose opinions rub publishers the wrong way -it begins to feel creepy. Continued...