Cheer up, America!

It hasn’t even been 10 years since 2002 when Dick Cheney famously said, “Reagan proved deficits don’t matter.”

It was the reason he used to justify the massive Bush tax cuts to then-U.S. Treasury Secretary Paul O’Neill. Those trickle-down tax cuts and the Iraq War fiasco are the reasons the $230 billion Clinton surplus went, “Wheeee!!!”

Now last night in the museum dedicated to the sainted Reagan all the leading Republicans asserted nothing but deficits matter.

Well, Cheney was for the most part right. Most deficits don’t matter, certainly not to the hysterical extent the Republican presidential candidates currently contend (at least until one of them becomes president).

But there is one key deficit that goes unmentioned because it runs counter to the scare-mongering so prevalent in Congress.

It’s the optimism deficit.

The country is morose at a time when it should be getting ready to strut.

Why?

The biggest reason happens Sunday, the 10th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks.

We’ve survived 10 of the worst years in the history of the republic. The attacks and our misguided overreaction -- Iraq -- could have devastated America. Instead will wind up fortifying us.

Historians will look back and wonder how we survived the last decade.

We survived Bernie Madoff, Fannie & Freddie, al-Qaeda, gulf oil spills, Abu Ghraib, Katrina, the steroid dismantling of baseball’s most hallowed records, the collapse of Detroit, Sanjaya, shoe and underwear bombers, TSA pat-downs and the 15th anniversary of Radio Disney.

Man, are we ever due.

We survived the untimely death of Texas troubadour Stephen Bruton (1948-2009). He co-wrote many of the songs for the fine Jeff Bridge’s movie, “Crazy Heart,” a 2009 Oscar winner dedicated to his memory.

This is from his 1995 song, “Right on Time,” and it strikes me as Americana apropos of the past decade.

I watched my luck run right out that door

I felt the future slam in my face

You know with luck this bad, I just had to smile

I’m only sticking around to see what else is gonna take place

We are witnessing the end of a really messy epoch in American history. It won’t bookend until the next election.

But, I swear, we’re on the short end of it. Detroit’s been miraculously reborn and businesses are sitting on nearly $1 trillion in profits and are bound to soon pull the trigger on more hiring.

The daily headlines scream you should be afraid.

Nonsense.

This isn’t about defeating the menace of global Communism or killing Osama bin Laden.

We’re being terrified by a bunch of accountants.

To me it seems almost treasonous to be so afraid of a future in a country so historically exuberant. This country positively percolates with great, innovative men and women who when challenged kick ass.

We defeat polio, bloodthirsty tyrants and nations audacious enough to think they can beat us to the surface of the moon.

These have been some damned tough times. People are struggling.

Hang in there. It’s going to get better.

Here’s a quick booster shot of some things that ought to make you more optimistic when the headlines scream you’re a fool for feeling that way.

• The NFL’s back and Brett Favre isn’t.

• With the exception of Texas Gov. Rick Perry, the Republicans at the debate didn’t all look as batshit crazy as you’d think they might have been. That bodes well for an issue-based 2012 presidential race.

• In 2001, the pessimists predicted we were on the verge of Islamic theocracies sweeping the Middle East. Ten years later the Arab world is rising up to demand Democracy. They’re dying for it in Egypt, Libya and Syria. And Bill Clinton hasn’t even paid them a visit yet.

• We’ve still got Clint Eastwood!

• Tea Party influence has peaked and so has Sarah Palin.

• You’re starting to see evidence everywhere that major corporations are finally starting to take eco-issues seriously.

• Kate Gosselin’s out of work.

• A coalition of CEOs led by Starbucks honcho Howard Schultz is gaining traction in a movement to get America working again. The group is pressuring Congress and business leaders to focus on innovative job creation. This could get interesting.

• Moammar Ghadafi hasn’t had a good day in at least five months.

• Only 16 shopping days until I rerun my ever-popular Lt. Frank Burns tribute on September 29, birthday of the late, five-times married actor Larry Linville!

I’m not sure if any of that will help perennial pessimists who are morose about the future.

But I’m optimistic it might.

American Idol and American music

As much as I was distraught by eight years of Bush/Cheney, my sanity was soothed by the certainty that one day it had to end.

The American people would return to their senses, a bold new leader would arise, the future would brighten.

Amen.

But the same cannot be said for a scourge that will continue to devastate the nation. It poisons our youth, desecrates our culture and threatens to leave a vast wasteland in its vapid wake.

Of course, I’m talking about American Idol.

I wish I could say the popular show is setting music back 25 years, but that would be too much to ask. Musically speaking, the past is the present.

I tremble for my cool when I hear I myself saying, consarnit, music just isn’t what it used to be. But back when I went to college in the paunchy part of the 1980s, they were playing great, current music from the 1980s. Bruce Springsteen, Bob Seger, U2, Journey and Tom Petty were all making vital contributions.

Today, I go back to those same Athens, Ohio, bars and hear many of those same songs. I look at my gray-haired and balding buddies and lament the only thing that ever changes is us.

We’d have torn the bar apart in an Ouzo-fueled rage if in 1985, we’d have gone into the bar and been subjected to nothing but 1965 ditties by the likes of Perry Como and Bobby Vinton.

But it’s the future of music for which I cringe.

American Idol sets the trends in gaudy fashion, pouty posing and fractured commentary. Paula Abdul recently confessed to a 12-year pill addiction, but hastened to add she was never high on Idol.

Really? That’s what she’s like when she’s lucid? If I were a show producer, I’d order her to refill her Vicoden prescription.

Musically is where it does the most damage. There are some clearly talented singers on the show, but ever since the success of Kelly Clarkson, all the girls and most of the boys have tried to sound exactly like Kelly Clarkson.

I think the show lost all credibility the year someone no one remembers beat out the great Sanjaya Malakar. Now, that guy was entertaining. As soon as I can find a big poster from the night he sang ‘You Really Got Me,’ by the Kinks with his hair piled up in that ridiculous faux-hawk, I’m putting it on the wall in front of the desk in my office.

The sweet-smiling Indian kid will always be my American Idol.

As for the judging, 75 percent of it is drivel. I sputtered in outrage after some long-gone top 10er sang, “Make You Feel My Love,” and Randy and Kara both gushed it was a moving interpretation of a great Garth Brooks song.

“What the . . .,” I exploded. “That’s a Bob Dylan song from his classic 1997 album, ‘Time Out of Mind.’ Brooks sang it, but it’ll never be a Garth Brooks song. How do these so-called experts not know that? And the guy made an awful hash of it. Here, let me show you how it’s supposed to be done . . .”

I dashed to the kitchen and grabbed a ladle for a microphone and stood up on the hearth and began what I thought was a poignant rendition of the soulful song. That’s when my 8-year-old seared me with a glare and a Cockney echo: “What . . . the . . . bloody . . . hell . . . was . . . that?”

She does a wicked Simon Cowell. He’s the only reason I let her even watch the show. He’s brilliant. After all the oral fluff from Randy, Paula and dippy fifth wheel Kara, some bracing insight from Simon is a catharsis of honest interpretation.

I wish it were just him judging. In fact, I don’t think the perennial ratings winner is a large enough platform for him. I’d like to see President Obama appoint him to fill the Souter vacancy on the U.S. Supreme Court. And then turn the high court into a modern equivalent of “The Gong Show.”

Maybe someday they’ll rule on the case of who murdered all the music back in 1989, consarnit!

Here are some uniquely ‘80s songs you can still hear in places like The Junction and Pawpurrs on Court Street in Athens, Ohio.



• “Voices Carry,” ‘til Tuesday

• “Shakin’,” Eddie Money

• “Keep Your Hands to Yourself,” Georgia Satellites

• “Luka,” Suzanne Vega

• “Angel is a Centerfold,” J. Geils Band

• “Twilight Zone,” Golden Earring

• “Who Can It Be Now?,” Men at Work

• “Come on Eileen,” Dexey’s Midnight Runners

• “Love is Like a Rock,” Donnie Iris

• “The Breakup Song,” The Greg Kihn Band

• “Take On Me,” a-ha

Feel free to add to the list. Please, nothing by Paula Abdul.