One of its advantages is a wonderfully diverse citizenry, including people from all over the world.
I also live alone.
(But I refuse to own a gun, so I guess the most horrible attack I could unleash would be withering sarcasm -- when I'm at my best.)
I also ride the buses almost every day.
It gives me the opportunity to see -- and, despite my nature, to talk to -- Muslims.
(OK, I'm making a generalization here, but I'm basing that on women wearing the hijab or associated head covering.)
Either alone or with others they seem to be as American -- even if they are foreign students -- as anyone else.
They are plugged into their smartphones, sometimes rocking to the beat, talking to friends, or just trying to unwind. When with others -- I'm assuming a husband or brother -- they are not above quibbling about what I suspect are often not the great issues of our times.
You know, the stuff we all do and talk about.
One time I witnessed a woman, whom I stereotypically gave all the attributes to some angry old bigot, haltingly attempt to compliment a Muslim woman on her "scarve, um, you know, your headgear. I'm sorry I don't know what you call them."
The young woman gently informed and thanked her, smiling sweetly -- clearly appreciating another person's attempt to make her feel welcome.
I've also seen more than a few times a Muslim get up to give me their seat because I sometimes have knee pain and walk with a limp.
It's no big deal and I'd just as soon stand, but I don't want this kind person to think it's beneath me or in any other way insult them.
I've also seen couples and, even worse, a lone woman, get off the bus at her stop and walk home in the dark.
Given the atmosphere ignited by Trump and his goons, I've often thought of offering to walk her home.
But I always stop, fearing that I might scare her -- I am not the most genial-looking person -- or just insult her sense of independence with my paternalism.
Still, whenever I hear Trump and his hate-mongers talking about Muslims, it's all I can do to contain my anger.
My job often requires me to work in -- but so far, not for -- WalMarts.
The other day I was in one.
I saw a Muslim couple walking out and smiling with apparent pride, their cart stuffed with a huge flat-screen TV.
I know this little essay smacks of paternalism and condescension, but how much more American can you get?