It was only an experiment. I wanted to see if I could change America in only one day by being the nicest person on earth for 24 hours.

I’m not talking normal-nice. I’m talking OBSCENELY nice. I’m talking do-you-need-a-kidney nice.

It should be noted, I’m not nice in real life. I’m just a regular person. Sure, I’d like to consider myself friendly—kind of. And, certainly, if a motorist on the highway has a flat tire I always pray for them as I speed by.

“But what if I acted differently today?” I thought to myself. I wondered, would niceness actually change this country?

“Being nice can change the world,” I’ve often heard it said.

So I conducted research.

And so it was, I started my day by forcing myself to smile. Not just sometimes, mind you. But ALL the time. For the entire day. When I showered, I smiled. When I drank coffee: smiled.

Because niceness starts with oneself, I’ve been told. Which is why when I combed my hair, I repeatedly told my reflection how handsome he was.

Next, I took my dog for a walk and I smiled whenever I passed other dog-walkers who were solemnly on their potty-walks before sunrise, caffeine deprived and dismal, with right hands snugly covered by Little Blue Baggies of Death. I hope you never learn about Little Blue Baggie of Death.

I smiled bigly. I made eye contact. I’d like to think my smiling made these people feel good because many of them picked up their pace. In fact, some of them started walking so fast they were practically sprinting away from me.

The next thing I did to change America was offer to help people in public, even if they didn’t need it.

There was, for example, the old man at the store who couldn’t get his buggy unstuck from a mess of shopping carts. So I helped him.

When I finally pried the cart free, he replied, sincerely, “I’m not THAT old, for crying out loud.”

Then he yanked the cart away and mumbled many words that were not nice, per se, but would have been sounded much nicer if he would have inhaled helium before speaking them.

After that, I tried changing America while in traffic. There was a guy on the highway who was riding my bumper.

Well, instead of reacting in my normal unfriendly motorist way, which would be getting annoyed and repeatedly using words relating to a famous evacuative orifice of the human body, I pulled over to let him pass.

And guess what?

My niceness worked. When he passed he actually rolled down his window and waved at me. He was waving one finger in particular.

So anyway, I wanted to see how far I could take my niceness.

I was nice to the uncheerful lady at the DMV.

I was nice to the cashier at the gas station who told me the bathrooms were out of order, even though these bathrooms have been out of order since the Carter administration.

I was nice to the young man in the Chick-fil-A who cut in line while 14 dine-in customers standing in line behind him shot hate-rays at the back of his neck.

And after it was all said and done, do you know what I learned during my great experiment? I learned that being nice doesn’t automatically change America. In fact, being nice doesn’t change anyone except me.

But that’s okay.

Because he’s the hardest person to change.