I Don't Get Guns, Cowboy

I'm now convinced this is an irreconcilable cultural barrier linked to "The Old West" and other historical events, but I cannot get my head around the American fascination with guns.

Mrs. Adolph Topperwein. [with gun] (LOC)

How ever many times someone says "guns don't kill people, people kill people," I have to say that if that person didn't have a gun in their hand, they probably would not be doing as much damage.



I know there has been a big problem with knife violence in Britain, but I believe there's a fundamental difference between using a knife and a gun. You use a knife, and you actually have to connect with the person you're attacking. Forgive me for putting this image in your head, but you have to feel it going in your victim. With a gun, it's almost like pushing a button - there's no connection. Plus there's all that room for "collateral damage," not to mention gun accidents.



I originally thought the guns/no guns argument was political - that Republicans were pro-gun and Democrats were anti-gun, but that's not entirely true. On a semi-related theme, I can't understand why someone can think that keeping records of gun-owners is an invasion of individual's privacy, while at the same time thinks that keeping DNA records of participants at a perfectly legal political protest is fair game. Or for that matter why so many "pro-lifers" are also pro death-penalty.



Having talked about guns, I will point out an interesting fact for the benefit of my British friends: Maybe it's just the circles I move in, but despite living in New Jersey (legendary home to mobsters and all sorts of shady characters) for more than ten years, the only people I've ever seen with a gun in real-life are cops.

Lusardi calls 999 to get to panto

I'm sure I'm not alone amongst ex-pat Brits in wanting to keep abreast of news from home. The BBC is one prime source for this, and I monitor the news headlines regularly. When I saw the headline above, I just knew there was a quintessentially British story to share. Here's the story in its entirety.

Let's start with Linda Lusardi. Ms. Lusardi started her career as a "page 3 model." "Page 3" is somewhat of a British institution, albeit a rather dubious one. The Sun, a British tabloid owned by Rupert Murdoch, has for many years featured a photograph of a topless model on page three of the newspaper. Linda Lusardi was one of the most popular page 3 girls ever, appearing for eleven years. She also appeared fully nude in various men's magazines.

More recently she's been appearing in various shows as an actress, most notably in Emmerdale, the third most popular soap-opera on TV in Britain. Again, pretty much an institution, Emmerdale, originally called "Emmerdale Farm" started out as a story set on a farm. In more recent years, the show has focused more on the goings-on in the local village. The show is also well-known for having more than its fair share of disasters, such as plane crashes, explosions, fires and shootings.

But back to Linda Lusardi. Linda has recently been appearing in Pantomime with her husband, British actor Sam Cane. Pantomime, often shortened to "Panto" is another British tradition. Presented at theatres (we have to use the British spelling, as opposed to the American "theater" here, darling!) around the country during the Christmas season, the stage shows usually feature music, comedy, audience participation for the kids ("Behind you!", "Oh no it isn't!" "Oh yes it is!"), some sexual innuendo for the parents, and cross-dressing. The lead male character is most often played by a woman, and an older "pantomime dame" is usually played by a man. Popular shows are Aladdin, Cinderella, Mother Goose, and similar.

So, Linda Lusardi (who's now 50 - that makes me feel old!), on her way to playing Queen Lucretia in a panto performance of "Snow White", is driving on the M25, a motorway that completely circles London, notorious for high volumes of traffic, when she encounters a traffic-jam. She proceeds to call 999 (The British equivalent of 911, reserved for emergency services), where she requests permission to use the hard-shoulder so she can get to the show on time. Her request was, of course, denied. A police spokesperson said "Being late for work is not a reason to call 999, contact the police or use emergency measures. Use of the hard shoulder is restricted for emergency service vehicles only."

Oh no, she didn't! - Oh yes she did!

Cops, Cars and a Cuppa - my first visit to the US (part 2)

(Continued from previous post)

I'd always known that American cops were armed, but when you're not used to an gun-toting police force, it really seems so "in your face." It's almost like something from a comic-book; the "Utility Belt", complete with packed heat - and testosterone to match. But I noticed the officer standing by the drop-off area outside the terminal building at Newark airport, much more than he noticed me. In fact, I was so invisible to him that he turned and spat right on my shoe. "Welcome to America!"

I dragged myself and my backpack (we like to call them Rucksacks in England) along the sidewalk (Brits call this the pavement) a few feet and anxiously awaited my ride (lift) while I munched on some of the candy (sweets) I'd bought at the store (shop). Would she recognize me? It turned out that this disheveled Brit with the rucksack stood out enough from the besuited dudes with their fancy luggage, that she was soon able to find me.

People sometimes wonder why it took me six years (actually, until my daughter was born) before I agreed to get behind the wheel of a car in the US. Here's why: My friend pulled away from the kerb (and yes, she had allowed me to get in first!) and headed for the highway (motorway). Unfortunately, where the airport exited onto the highway, all I could see were cars coming at us from every direction. I thought for sure that someone was going to crash into us. It was lunacy. I did the only sane thing I could have done. I covered my eyes with my hands and screamed like a girl.

By the time we'd arrived in Edison, New Jersey from Newark airport, I'd finally removed my hands from my eyes. I tumbled out of the car with my stuff and entered my friend's cute little house. We went straight for the kitchen, where she asked me whether I'd like a cup of tea. YES, I thought. She knows me well enough to know that all I want after this stressful transatlantic trip is a cup of tea. Nothing more, until I recover. I like this woman.

Would you like Green Tea, Decaf. Green Tea, Rose-hip, Peppermint, Chamomile, Cranberry Apple Zinger, Orange Spice, Red tea, White tea,Lapsang Souchong......

It was then I first learned about the insane amount of choice that Americans have. Over pretty much everything.

Please....do you just have some tea?

The amazing thing was she got it. Very quickly. I was beginning to think she might be a keeper.