The Great British Pub, R.I.P? - England 2010 Part 2

As many of my friends know, one of the things I miss most about living in England is the traditional local pub. One I remember fondly is The Britannia, located just opposite the flat (apartment) I lived in for a while before moving to the US. Just as in any good "local," I knew that whenever I visited I'd find friends, and the bar-staff would be pouring my beer without needing to be asked.

After I moved here, my visits back to England would always include a trip or two to "The Brit," seeing who was still around, and catching up with the local gossip. Sadly, on my last visit, about eighteen months ago, I found none of my friends in residence. It was being run by a West Indian family and had a large West Indian clientele. Even so, they made me feel very welcome, and we spent a lot of time chatting about life in the States.

Some time ago, I started hearing that pubs around the country were closing at an alarming rate. I saw evidence of this for myself, including one pub near my parents' house that was being demolished to make way for flats. Just before my most recent visit, my Father told me that he had heard that The Britannia had closed. Determined to find out for myself, I discovered that it hadn't actually closed, but when I looked in, there was one patron and no sign of the bar-staff. I decided to check another nearby pub, The Biscot Mill, to see if any of my friends had started drinking there. After some good beer and conversation with some regulars, some old friends did walk in, and we spent some time catching up over a few pints. Unfortunately, I found out that The Britannia was indeed about to close, and was going to be turned into flats.

Later during our visit, we took a side-trip to Swansea, in South Wales. On a bitterly cold Sunday morning, we went along the coast a little to a village called Mumbles, a popular tourist attraction. Sheltering from the weather, we went into a pub to get some hot drinks. Looking around the place, which had some antique wood-paneling, stained glass, and some interesting looking beers, something seemed a little "off." The menus on the tables looked very generic. We started to suspect that the place was a cleverly-disguised "chain-pub," and a barman confirmed this.

Why are traditional British Pubs disappearing so rapidly? Many blame the ban on smoking in public places. I've never been a smoker myself, but I still find it strange being in a smoke-free pub. Recently, I've noticed much of the media criticizing the wide availability of cheap alcohol in the supermarkets; some are calling for a law setting a minimum price. Another aspect may be the perceived rise in crime and so-called "antisocial behavior" making people feel less safe outside their homes. Then there's the poor economy. Brits are not going to the pub like they used to; instead, they are sitting in the safety of their homes, in front of their big-screen TVs, where they can smoke while drinking their cheap supermarket booze. Britain is losing both a piece of its cultural history and a valuable avenue for social interaction.

Do you have any thoughts about British pubs or pub culture? How do you feel about these establishments disappearing so rapidly? I'd love to hear your feedback.

The Great American Heathcare Debate

Entering a clinic in the US for the first time many years ago, I was shocked to find that the very first office door that greeted me was labeled "Financial Consultant." Shocked is not too mild a word to use. I think my Wife was surprised by my reaction. I really found it offensive. She was just used to it.

Healthcare is a huge issue in the news right now, as one of the things that President Obama promised if he got into power was "universal healthcare." Because I come from a country with so-called "socialized medicine," I have been asked many times just recently about how healthcare works in Britain. This is hardly surprising, since opponents of the proposed plan have often said things like, "We don't want a system like Britain or Canada" as if this is a bad thing. Even my own Doctor, during a routine check-up, started quizzing me about whether I preferred the US or UK healthcare system. I told him that, although not perfect, the National Health Service in the UK did ensure that everyone, whether they could afford it or not, was covered. His response was that anyone in the US could get free treatment in hospital emergency rooms. I didn't get a chance to say what I really wanted to, that I thought it would be really nice if the poor didn't have to wait until it became an emergency. Those who cannot afford health insurance either put off treatment, often until it's too late, or fill emergency rooms with non-emergency cases, stretching those already overworked departments.

Criticism of the National Health Service, mostly unfounded, by American opponents of Obama's plan has had a surprising effect amongst the British. A British friend wrote to me, "4 million Brits twittered in defence of the NHS almost crashing it. The debate is happening here---Fox news found an MEP (not MP), who defended the American 'healthcare only for those who can afford it' system, to spout some hysterical rightwing piffle. It has had a dramatic effect---the conservatives have gone from a shoe in, to an even contest in a week." He was talking about the opinion polls comparing the incumbent Labour party with the Conservative Party.

Conservatives in the US have been raising a very noisy protest against the proposals. Past vice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin started talking nonsense about Obama creating "death-panels" of bureaucrats who would make life or death decisions about our nearest and dearest. While Obama and his supporters have talked about 47 Million people in the US being uninsured, there are people who deny those figures, mentioning illegal immigrants (who wouldn't be included in the count anyway), Millionaires (this includes property which people would have to sell if they needed healthcare) and people who are in the process of switching insurance. The figures are probably much worse, because poor people often take a gamble on health insurance, taking it out some years and not others.

The right-wing have also gotten many ordinary working people scared that they are going to lose their choice of coverage. In the UK, if you can afford it, you can take out insurance and be treated privately. However, if you cannot afford to do this, you're still covered. This is what's being proposed in the US. In fact people will have more choice, not less.

These scare tactics take advantage, I think, of a deep-rooted "take care of yourself" ethic in the US. Another friend of mine, this time in Canada, said, "They keep saying 'I don't want to be socialized' like public health care and caring about our neighbours is a bad thing." I think that not only is universal healthcare the right thing to do, especially for the richest country in the world, but it's short-sighted for individuals to only consider their own situation right now. What happens if you get laid-off from your job, or want to start your own small business? US healthcare is big business, and that is where I believe things go wrong. The health of our people is essentially an issue of infrastucture.

Do you still think the US healthcare system works just fine now? The World Health Organization would disagree.

What do you think? I'd love to hear from you.

An Englishman in San Diego - The Home Stretch

Once we had moved to the Sheraton Hotel and Marina for my Wife's conference, my daughter and I were alone during the day. I decided it was time to relax and not try to do quite so much each day. The first day (the seventh of our vacation), we had a lazy day at the hotel, watching TV, reading, playing and so on. We went down to the hotel lobby for a while, so I could take advantage of the free Wi-Fi there (it was $12 per day in the room, despite the entire marina area having a free Wi-Fi service, which the Sheraton blocked).

In the evening, once my Wife had finished for the day, we headed out to San Diego's Old Town district. This historic area has lots of restaurants, many of them Mexican, and many interesting places to see, especially in its Old Town State Historic Park. The park contains period buildings, some in their original locations and some that were moved in. Old Town also contains The Whaley House, supposedly the most haunted house in the United States. We were in the area to soak up the atmosphere and eat Mexican food.

The next day (Tuesday), my daughter and I spent time at Balboa Park. This beautiful and expansive park contains 15 museums and many other attractions. Many of the buildings in the park were originally built as temporary structures for the 1915-1916 Panama-California Exposition, and have since been rebuilt. Upon arriving there, we discovered that the day you visit is extremely important, if you have specific things you want to see. I had heard about the narrow-gauge railway and the carousel, and hoped to take my daughter there, but upon arrival, I found that they were only open on Sundays. A local Mom I spotted there suggested that my daughter might enjoy The Reuben H. Fleet Science Center, so that is where we went next. This museum, with its many interactive exhibits, was a lot of fun, and I highly recommend it. After we ate lunch, we headed for the Marie Hitchcock Puppet Theater, which we discovered closed on Mondays and Tuesdays! Still, the park has a lot to offer and it is worth spending the entire day there.

My daughter and I spent the day before we were due to leave, relaxing in the marina area and the hotel. We had breakfast at Papanani's Deli at the marina, where we discovered the antidote to the hotel's expensive offerings. The food was delicious and the people were friendly. They put on children's TV for my daughter and I had unblocked access to the marina's free Wi-Fi!

In the evening, the family went down to Seaport Village for our final San Diego dinner, this time at Buster's Beach House & Longboard Bar. This fun bar and restaurant has a Hawaiian theme, and the food and beer are both great. I ate (and thoroughly recommend) the Pork Luau and Macadamia Nut-Crusted Chicken. I enjoyed Firehouse Pale Ale, brewed by firefighters who use the proceeds to support the widows and families of firefighters and to provide equipment to local firehouses.

That wonderful meal marked the end of our San Diego vacation. By six the next morning, we were reluctantly on our way to the airport, for the smooth and trouble-free flight back to New Jersey. Thank you San Diego, for making us feel so welcome.

I hope you have enjoyed this little series documenting the wonderful time we had in San Diego. Are you familiar with the area? Would you like to visit? Please do post comments or questions - I would love to hear from you.

An Englishman in San Diego - Birthday, Beasts, Burritos, Backstage and Beer

The fifth day of our San Diego vacation was also the day my four-year-old daughter turned five. This day was all about her. We spent the day at the world-renowned San Diego Zoo. I remember being excited to visit this zoo the last time we were here, because I had heard so much about it. I also remember being very slightly disappointed, perhaps because my expectations were set so high by what I had heard. San Diego has been at the forefront of many advances in zoology, such as breeding programs and animal enrichment (providing enclosures, items and activities to stimulate their minds and bodies). The facility itself seems just a little old-fashioned compared to some of the other zoos I have been to. Nevertheless, I do recommend a visit if you get a chance.

For my daughter's birthday dinner we went to Fred's Mexican Cafe in The Gaslamp Quarter. This area of San Diego, with its bars, restaurants and trendy shopping, is full of activity, especially during the evenings. Fred's Mexican Cafe is a lively bar and restaurant, offering Mexican favorites with a healthy California twist. It is also the place that my daughter, then two years old, first discovered a love for Mexican food. During our first visit here, I remember her asking our server for "Mexican Food" when asked what she would like to order. When pressed for what kind of Mexican food she would like, she got quite agitated, asking for "Mexican Food" again. We ordered for her that time. This time, there was no such confusion. My daughter confidently asked for a black bean and cheese burrito as we sat out on their front terrace, watching the world drift by. Fred's combination plates are a good way to sample a range of different Mexican items, and they have draft Dos Equis Ambar, which is always a good thing. The food is delicious and ideal for the budget-conscious.

That marked the last day of our stay at The Dana Hotel on Mission Bay. On Sunday, the sixth day of our vacation, we had to move hotels. First, we went to SeaWorld again, this time for a behind-the-scenes tour. We visited areas not usually seen by the public, including the medical facility and places where they rehabilitate sick, injured and orphaned animals. We saw pregnant dolphins, kept in quiet areas away from the public, and we saw birds such as flamingos and parrots, which have jobs as "animal ambassadors" for SeaWorld.

We went straight from SeaWorld to the Sheraton Hotel & Marina, where my wife's conference was being held. It is a lovely hotel, with luxurious rooms, and our room came with a balcony overlooking the marina. However, it is also on an artificial island (built on the by-product of dredging the shipping channel around the San Diego Coast), which means they have a captive audience for their overpriced restaurants and bars. Guests either pay inflated prices, or pay for a taxi to take them to a more reasonably priced location. While the bar offered a good selection of local brews on tap (I greatly enjoyed Stone Pale Ale), I was paying nearly twice as much for the pleasure than I was at our previous hotel.

How Much?

Many of you will be familiar with the early days of a "serious" relationship. It can be quite an expensive time, since you have not yet settled into the humdrum routine of spending nights watching TV, getting the recycling ready to go out, and so on. Instead, you're going out to restaurants and doing lots of fun stuff. Now imagine what this period might be like for a long-distance relationship.

When B. and I figured out that yes, we were dating, there was certainly some sticker-shock involved. We both, of course, made quite a few transatlantic flights. B's parents and one of her sisters came to Ireland for a vacation with some genealogy thrown in, and B. came with them for part of the trip, so one of my cheaper flights was to Dublin to meet the family. I discovered it pays to complain about poor service. On one of my trips to the US, there was not only a delay followed by a cancellation, but it was handled terribly by staff; a letter to head-office resulted in a free flight.

One of my regular trips was so we could go to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival held in July in upstate New York. This festival is very special to us. Along with many other wonderful artists, we got to see Dar Williams, who was responsible for our relationship in the first place (she did find out about it, and has been very good to us over the years!). We became festival volunteers together, which not only made it a relatively cheap date, but also brought us together with a wonderful "family." Falcon Ridge was so dear to us that it also became the place where I proposed to B, in a solar shower stall in our campsite (yes, were were fully clothed, and yes, I got down on one knee, even though it was wet). Despite the surroundings, B. said yes!

And then there were the phone calls. Advice to anyone embarking on a long-distance relationship: Make sure you get on a calling plan QUICK! B. and I were calling each other just about every day. B's first phone bill after we started phoning each other regularly was enormous. But she got monthly bills. Mine came quarterly! Once we got onto sensible international calling plans, things were not so bad. I'm an early-morning person, and B's a night-owl, so the five hour time difference worked well for us; we'd call each other at Midnight Eastern Time, which was 5am in the UK. We'd talk for a while before I got ready for work.

Any idea how much it costs to import a husband? The story of our dealings with the INS will wait for another day.

Coins, Candy and Calls - my first visit to the US (part 1)

It started with getting a bus from my home town of Luton to Heathrow Airport. That was tiring enough, but follow that with a 7 hour flight, plus the time it took to get through passport control and pick up my luggage, and by the time I got to the lobby of Newark Airport, I was tired and crabby. Not to mention anxious, seeing as I was to meet up for the first time with a woman who I had previously only communicated with via the Internet or phone.

It should have been so simple. I just needed to find a payphone, call the aforementioned woman, who would then come out and pick me up from the Airport. One problem: I didn't have any US Change - only bills (or notes, as we like to call them in England). It shouldn't be too much of a problem - right?

So I started by finding an information desk and asked if they could break a bill for me. No, they weren't allowed to do that. OK, still no problem, I'd go to one of the stores and buy something, getting some change in the process. I worked out how much I'd need, then found some kind of confectionery that would result in me getting enough change. The storekeepers had been so kind as to put a price label on everything - how helpful! What they don't tell you is that sales tax isn't included in that price! So the change I'd carefully calculated was less than I needed! I tried the same procedure again, and found I still didn't have enough. In fact, by the time I had enough money for the phone, I also had pockets that were positively bulging with tooth-rotting candy!

But I had enough money for the phone. That was the main thing. I found the piece of paper with my friend's number on it and dialed. But here's the thing - when an American tells you their phone number, they say "My number is 123-456-7890." They forget to tell you that you have to dial a "1" in front of all numbers. I kept dialing the number I had, wondering briefly whether I was the victim of an expensive variation of the old "call me, here's a fake number" ruse, then thinking that perhaps I'd just copied the number incorrectly. Either way, I'd somehow managed to lose some of my change in the process, so it was back to the store to buy more candy.

I went back to the information desk to see if they had a directory. They did, and so I was able to look up the number. Of course, it was the number that I already had written down. So I went back to try again, with the same result. Eventually, and I can't recall where I found the small but all-important snippet of information about adding a "1" (after all, it was eleven or twelve years ago), I finally managed to get through and let my friend know I'd arrived...oh...over an hour previously.

(To be continued)