At Rogers Arena on Friday, July 1

Fireworks. Barbecues. Street festivals. There are so many ways to celebrate our nation’s birthday. But perhaps none as patriotic as attending a July 1 Britney Spears concert at Rogers Arena. After all, nothing says “Happy Canada Day” quite like watching an all-American train wreck dry-hump a giant bucking guitar in blinged out Daisy Dukes. Why, it’s fun the whole family can enjoy!

But for the record, the Louisiana comeback kid didn’t do much in the way of acknowledging our 144th. Opener Nicki Minaj, on the other hand, did. Now there’s a class act. I like that girl. She feels like the real deal. Not only does this tough-talking Trinidadian rapper crank out bumpin’ beats with attitude to spare, but she also takes the time to show her culturally sensitive side.

For example, in between thrusting her awe-inspiring onion as she waxed poetic with such lines as “I shitted on ’em” and “If I had a dick, I would pull it out and piss on ’em,” she graciously wished her hosts a very merry flag-waving holiday. Nice.

Then Spears was up. Now I was fully prepared to watch the former Mouseketeer lip-synch her way through an endless set of hits because that’s what prefab pop “singers” do, right? They refrain from actually “singing,” so they can save their cardiovascular system for more important things like choreographed chair dancing and simulated sex with stage props. I mean, I get it—winded vox and pelvic thrusting just make for bad showmanship. Leave all that silly ole singing to actual artists—fools.

That said, the fact that Britney’s nonvocal vocal delivery sounded like garbled, out-of-tune crap is a complete mystery to me. The only plausible theory (that I can come up with anyway) is her team of sound engineers do that on purpose for a more realistic effect—you know, like when Ed Hardy posers spend money on distressed designer clothing so they have all the appearance and street cred of authentic vintage. And to her credit, Spears almost had us fooled till she busted out her hit ballad “Don’t Let Me Be The Last To Know.”

A few notes of this ear bleeder set us straight. That’s because as threatened, the expert mouther sang this without the aid of high-tech vocal enhancement. Perched on her giant swing like a Vegas-style songbird, she gave the nasal performance of her life.

Another highlight of the night (and by highlight, I mean awesomely white-trash spectacle) was her cover of Madonna’s old-school single “Burning Up”. That’s when our little country kitten mounted the mechanical six-string phallic symbol and rode it raw.

So just who is a Britney Spears fan, you may be asking yourself right about now. Well, based on my observations of Friday night’s concertgoers, I’d say 70 percent of her followers are emotionally invested suburbanite teen fans who take the music seriously, while the other 30 percent are camp-loving hairdressers who enjoy the terrifically tasteless irony of it all. Judging by the enthusiasm of the collective crowd, it’s safe to say that both parties left feeling as thought they got their money’s worth. And that is, perhaps, the greatest Canada Day gift, anyone could ask for.