How dare you make fun of Mitt Romney for being impressed by Wawa!

This clip has been making the rounds, and with it, the clouds of disdain. How dare you!

Anyone who disagrees that the Wawa touch-screen is the most impressive thing since sliced bread is not a real American. In fact, it may be more impressive than sliced bread. Sliced bread just sits there. But tap the touch screen at the Wawa and eventually someone will bring you a sandwich. That is the greatest gift one human being can give another. Love is fleeting. Power corrupts. Give someone enough money and eventually he will be forced to buy a hot tub. But sandwiches — nothing is made worse by a sandwich. Especially not at Wawa.

This is the peak of civilization. This is the pinnacle of innovation. This is the sort of thing that Ben Franklin only dimly dreamed of in his cups. Ben can keep the Franklin stove and bifocals and the vague, impenetrable proverbs.

Give me the touch-screen machine at Wawa any day. They also have excellent frozen coffees!

I am not being sarcastic. I have never been more earnest in my life.

Nor am I saying this as a corporate shill for Wawa. It is only marginally less asinine of a name than Lady Gaga. The last time I was there, someone tried to throw a sandwich at me and offered to heat up my guacamole.

My point is, this is America.

No wonder Ann Romney told the Hill that she and Mitt would probably take fewer foreign vacations than the Obamas. With Mitt this impressed by the Wawa, what need? Just take him back there and allow him to press the buttons. This is all the vacation the Romneys need — to the Real United States.

Mitt at one point during the primary joked about the phrase “I need a vacation from this vacation.” But this is the sort of phrase the Romneys understand. Their vacations are onerous affairs. They have 18 grandchildren. Their horses are Olympic athletes. The kind of relaxing they do is exhausting.

When all you eat is foie gras, chicken fingers are a delicacy. Spend your days at the opera eating tiny mints in kid gloves, and you yearn for a visit to a rest stop convenience store.

But this isn’t a case of that. No matter who you are or where you come from, I defy you to tell me that the Wawa touch screen is not incredible, does not make your chest swell with pride and fails to give you the urge to tell large crowds of strangers all about it. You poke it and it gives you a sandwich! It makes you proud to be American. (Yes, it’s apparently made in China. Hush!)

This country is full of miraculous sights. Sure, there are Petrified Forests and battlefield parks and so forth, but more importantly, there are Chick-fil-a’s and Culvers’ and Jack-in-the-Boxes and Wawas. These are the real national landmarks. That mystic point where Hardees turns into Carl’s Jr. is the real national divide.

Mount Rushmore? The Badlands? Keep ’em. Any national park with Bad in the name does not immediately inspire confidence. You would not go to the Bad Canyon.

What is the Grand Canyon but a big empty space that will not bring you a sandwich?

And forget Europe. Rome? Athens? Too much economic panic. And there are no Wawas there.

Keep the Leaning Tower of Pisa. The Tower sounds poorly constructed, if not biased. The Eiffel Tower is too far away — and French.

Give me the U.S.A. And give me Wawa.