There was once a time in the US - according to satirist Kinky Friedman at least - when the underpinnings of culture were Jesus Christ, Elvis Presley and Coca-Cola.
That part of the world has changed over the years. Coca-Cola, for example, has been upstaged by Pepsi.
Elvis is but a hazy memory, the pedestal of US pop culture now being occupied by Beyonce, who inherited it from Michael Jackson.
Well, Jesus Christ and hamburgers are still hanging in there. Just. And yes, the Thanksgiving bird and apple pie are somewhere in the collage. Just.
A cynic would say love of wars, too, is part of US culture. To which I say: let's move right along .
In a Netflix special on Dolly Parton that I watched last week, one of her fans summed up what being a contemporary American means to her: "I love Jesus Christ, my son, Dolly Parton and Donald Trump."
Braaivleis, meet shisanyama
As we celebrate heritage month, we South Africans have cause to pause and ask ourselves what heritage really means to us.
In the 1970s, being South African was all about "braaivleis, rugby, sunny skies and Chevrolet", as a car commercial put it.
Across the tracks, however, the message would have been "pap, children with oversized kwashiorkor-induced heads, and teargas, and soccer".
Talk of a national heritage is always fraught with the danger of being political. This country, after all, has always been racially divided, and race was a class determinant.
In my early years as a journalist, I shared a home with progressive white friends on Moore Road, Durban.
My roommates were shocked that here we were in 1986 and this black dude had never heard of Bob Dylan.
When I listened to his music, which immediately resonated with my reality as a black South African, I realised he would never get any airtime on black radio.
His songs would have been considered "subversive" by the authorities. If they couldn't be played on radio, where else would I have heard them?
At any rate, "subversive" or not, it was rare for "white" music to be played on black radio. For some reason, Elvis Presley and Dolly Parton were exceptions.
The times, they are a-changin'
Anyway, back to our pad on Moore Road. My discovery of Dylan not only embarrassed me, it also made me angry.
As a comeback to my white friends who were laughing at my "uncultured" self, I played them a record by the Soul Brothers.
They had never heard of this group, which, at the time, was the biggest-selling music outfit in Southern Africa. It was my turn to laugh.
I am raking this up to illustrate how segregation ensured that we would not sing from the same hymn book as South Africans of different races.
Under those circumstances, therefore, there couldn't have been a uniform South African heritage.
That, after all, was the intention: to keep us divided, to emphasise our "differences", many of which were artificial.
Americans, in general, are in a position to speak of a US culture or heritage. That they have a common language has helped.
It also helps that at school, children in the US are made to recite the pledge of allegiance every day. Call it brainwashing, but on a daily basis they get reminded who they are.
History is compulsory during much of their schooling, so much so that many Americans can recite off-by-heart the names of the founding fathers of the nation, right from the formation of the federation.
A shared identity exists, imperfect as it is.
History is compulsory during much of their schooling, so much so that many Americans can recite off-by-heart the names of the founding fathers of the nation, right from the formation of the federation
Castle, Klippies or Tassies?
So what is South African heritage?
The safest answer would be: our heritage is still as divided as the colours of the rainbow.
In some parts of the country "sunny skies, boerewors, rugby and Klippies" would still hold sway as a rallying cry.
But on the other side of the tracks, perhaps "Lucky Star, kwaito and Castle" would have more resonance.
Yet, other parts of the country would cry "lamb bredie, red wine and Kaapse klopse".
Which is to say, heritage is still contested terrain.
The country has just witnessed the Zulu reed dance, a major celebration for SA's biggest ethnic group.
Yet this very public ceremony, which happens every September, is still a mystery to many South Africans.
Some dismissively refer to it as a parade where the king chooses his next bride. The Zulu king only has six wives. The ceremony was there even before he was born.
Which disproves the theory that the ceremony is solely for his personal edification.
More than just a TV series
In case you didn't know, September 24 used to be officially called Shaka Day in KwaZulu-Natal before 1994. This to honour the presumed day of the death, in 1828, of King Shaka, the founding father of the Zulu nation.
After 1994 it was decided to change the name and come with something inclusive, if nebulous - hence Heritage Day.
Over the past few years, a new name for the day has been gaining traction - national braai day. From Shaka to national braai day.
The symbolism speaks volumes. We'd rather settle for crass commercialism than establish a precolonial king as an icon in the South African cultural pantheon.
As South Africans we still have a long way to go towards agreeing what will make us the nation that we want to be.
No, we are not yet a nation. We are a patchwork quilt of cultures. When we are being nice to ourselves we say we are united in our diversity. The ego needs a powerful massage. The lie wants to be deepened.
The reality is that we are more like the Tower of Babel.
In the past, and out of necessity, the oppressed majority had to learn the ruling race's languages and their ways of living, while the ruling class was apathetic at best, or culturally hostile at worst.
They never took an active interest in local languages, let alone bothering to find out how the other side lived.
But, hey, let's not be too harsh on ourselves. The Americans, who are as racially diverse as we are, have had a head start in this nation-building game.
While racism prances proudly across the landscape in the land of Uncle Sam, the Americans dropped racist statutes a long time ago, and started formulating a shared identity, such as it is.
We have only just dropped the racial statutes. Only 26 years ago. Give us time. Maybe one day we'll speak of a South African nation, with a shared heritage.
But it won't happen spontaneously, or organically to use the contemporary catchphrase. These things, as the Americans have demonstrated, have to be worked on diligently and deliberately.
What do we want to be? And how do we intend getting there?
I truly believe that a genuinely shared heritage, this smorgasbord of cultures swirled together, rather than pushing in opposite directions, will probably make us happy as a nation, and inspire us to work harder, knowing we are building something of mutual benefit and enjoyment.
