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My favourite country would combine the best of the US and UK My favourite country would combine the best of the US and UK
(25 days later)
If you've lived between the US and the UK, as I have done in recent years, it can be hard to pin down which country you love more. At times, I yearn to go back and live on the West Coast, where the smiles were wider, the sun was brighter, and everyone believed in the dream of a dream at least. At other times I'm greatly relieved to be in London, with the cold comforts of sarcasm and rain, the reassuring presence of doctors who don't ask to see your credit card, and the absence of cheerleaders and the NRA. (And cheerleading for the NRA.)If you've lived between the US and the UK, as I have done in recent years, it can be hard to pin down which country you love more. At times, I yearn to go back and live on the West Coast, where the smiles were wider, the sun was brighter, and everyone believed in the dream of a dream at least. At other times I'm greatly relieved to be in London, with the cold comforts of sarcasm and rain, the reassuring presence of doctors who don't ask to see your credit card, and the absence of cheerleaders and the NRA. (And cheerleading for the NRA.)
And where my child can enjoy the deadpan pleasures of Thomas the Tank Engine, not The Little Engine That Could, which is a classic American storybook, televised with an unbelievably saccharine theme tune about how "you might not have the biggest part! But it's a job! And it's a start!" Ugh.And where my child can enjoy the deadpan pleasures of Thomas the Tank Engine, not The Little Engine That Could, which is a classic American storybook, televised with an unbelievably saccharine theme tune about how "you might not have the biggest part! But it's a job! And it's a start!" Ugh.
But then sometimes you wish you were in the US again – like the time I spent a whole Saturday cleaning my house, and at the end of it opened my laptop, saw that an American friend was online, and instantly told her what I'd done. "Great!" she typed back, "you must feel really energised now, having all that lovely, cleared space around you." I did!But then sometimes you wish you were in the US again – like the time I spent a whole Saturday cleaning my house, and at the end of it opened my laptop, saw that an American friend was online, and instantly told her what I'd done. "Great!" she typed back, "you must feel really energised now, having all that lovely, cleared space around you." I did!
An English friend then rang up, so I told her the good news about cleaning the house too. "Yeah, well, it fucking well needed it," came her reply. Oh.An English friend then rang up, so I told her the good news about cleaning the house too. "Yeah, well, it fucking well needed it," came her reply. Oh.
But then I was glad to be back in London when I visited a friend's new flat this week, and she said there was a problem with the oven. I asked for more details. She said: "Oh God, it's a long story" – and that was that. What a relief – someone shutting down a potentially boring conversation that neither of you actually wanted to have. I've not seen so much of this in the US, where people like to go for a good 15 minutes on the effect garlic has on their digestion, or engage in extensive verbal explanations, upon meeting up with their friends, on where exactly everyone parked their car. You struggle to believe that they actually care, but they do. Then there are the shop assistants and waiters who feel no qualms in asking you all about your trip, how long you're staying, and whether you feel that your sexual pleasure has been affected by childbirth at all. Well, almost.But then I was glad to be back in London when I visited a friend's new flat this week, and she said there was a problem with the oven. I asked for more details. She said: "Oh God, it's a long story" – and that was that. What a relief – someone shutting down a potentially boring conversation that neither of you actually wanted to have. I've not seen so much of this in the US, where people like to go for a good 15 minutes on the effect garlic has on their digestion, or engage in extensive verbal explanations, upon meeting up with their friends, on where exactly everyone parked their car. You struggle to believe that they actually care, but they do. Then there are the shop assistants and waiters who feel no qualms in asking you all about your trip, how long you're staying, and whether you feel that your sexual pleasure has been affected by childbirth at all. Well, almost.
Yet the thing is, it's that same cheerful, chatty gene that leads Americans to ask each other out on dates, and welcome you, and make you feel found. In fact, the dating thing is so much better in the States that even thinking about it makes me feel mildly depressed for us. In the US, you get introduced to someone socially, you get talking, you get on, and a swapping of phone numbers followed by dinner may result. This is normal. I can think of three British female friends, all very lovely, who came back from long trips to the States and felt quite miserable in London, where this didn't happen to them. The problem is, though, that if you want to take advantage of bold people buying you dinner, you also have to accept the 15-minute garlic monologue thing too.Yet the thing is, it's that same cheerful, chatty gene that leads Americans to ask each other out on dates, and welcome you, and make you feel found. In fact, the dating thing is so much better in the States that even thinking about it makes me feel mildly depressed for us. In the US, you get introduced to someone socially, you get talking, you get on, and a swapping of phone numbers followed by dinner may result. This is normal. I can think of three British female friends, all very lovely, who came back from long trips to the States and felt quite miserable in London, where this didn't happen to them. The problem is, though, that if you want to take advantage of bold people buying you dinner, you also have to accept the 15-minute garlic monologue thing too.
"Americans may have no identity," wrote the French philosopher Baudrillard, in 1986, "but they do have wonderful teeth." As a lover of the US, it's not the teeth that appeal to me particularly – but nearly everything else does. The right to talk about yourself and your feelings. Woody Allen. Dave LaChapelle. Tina Fey. The swamps in Florida. The huge cars on the huge roads, the faith in driving, moving, being master of your own destiny in a big old gas-guzzling car on a big old earth-crushing road – there's a part of me that admires the audacity of freeways alone. Deadpan actor s like Marcia Gay Harden, who says that "in Hollywood, 40 is the new 100". The curious, misguided sense of patriotism, like an enthusiastic puppy, loyal to its master – and that might sound patronising, but I don't know the British lack of patriotism to be any superior. The bit in the new prison series Orange that is the New Black, where an angry Christian inmate says: "I wanna drag this cross, it's my religious freedom, and you're violating it," shortly before she hoists the enormous crucifix on to the ceiling, and the entire roof falls down. The story my friend Michelle told, about how her grandmother planned to walk to California from two states away. And as she told the story, we all got lost in images of pioneers and frontiers, old gold rush towns, a young woman barefoot in petticoats. "And then she was going to get sponsored by Nike," continued Michelle."Americans may have no identity," wrote the French philosopher Baudrillard, in 1986, "but they do have wonderful teeth." As a lover of the US, it's not the teeth that appeal to me particularly – but nearly everything else does. The right to talk about yourself and your feelings. Woody Allen. Dave LaChapelle. Tina Fey. The swamps in Florida. The huge cars on the huge roads, the faith in driving, moving, being master of your own destiny in a big old gas-guzzling car on a big old earth-crushing road – there's a part of me that admires the audacity of freeways alone. Deadpan actor s like Marcia Gay Harden, who says that "in Hollywood, 40 is the new 100". The curious, misguided sense of patriotism, like an enthusiastic puppy, loyal to its master – and that might sound patronising, but I don't know the British lack of patriotism to be any superior. The bit in the new prison series Orange that is the New Black, where an angry Christian inmate says: "I wanna drag this cross, it's my religious freedom, and you're violating it," shortly before she hoists the enormous crucifix on to the ceiling, and the entire roof falls down. The story my friend Michelle told, about how her grandmother planned to walk to California from two states away. And as she told the story, we all got lost in images of pioneers and frontiers, old gold rush towns, a young woman barefoot in petticoats. "And then she was going to get sponsored by Nike," continued Michelle.
Or the bit in The Great Gatsby where Nick realises, despite all odds, Jay's "extraordinary capacity for hope". Yes, Jay's hope is a madness, a scandalous madness that you know will end in tears. But it's also a wonderful, intoxicating madness if you were brought up in a land that thinks Too Much Information means admitting that you sometimes feel sad. And it's easy to mock Obama's hope campaign now that he hasn't achieved all he promised, but his election still changed the face of America. We could do with a measured dose of that optimism here. Which is why I am inventing a new superstate that will float somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, and combine the best bits of both countries. I am going to call it Hopeish.Or the bit in The Great Gatsby where Nick realises, despite all odds, Jay's "extraordinary capacity for hope". Yes, Jay's hope is a madness, a scandalous madness that you know will end in tears. But it's also a wonderful, intoxicating madness if you were brought up in a land that thinks Too Much Information means admitting that you sometimes feel sad. And it's easy to mock Obama's hope campaign now that he hasn't achieved all he promised, but his election still changed the face of America. We could do with a measured dose of that optimism here. Which is why I am inventing a new superstate that will float somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, and combine the best bits of both countries. I am going to call it Hopeish.
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