Behind You! - A Guest Post by Becky Gudgin

During our recent trip to England, we went to a theatre in Wales to see a Pantomime, that most British of theatrical events. I was going to write about it here, but then I was struck by the thought that it might be even better to get a genuine American's interpretation of the spectacle. Now, where can I get one of those? Oh, that's right, I'm married to a genuine American!

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I’ve been asked to explain British pantomime. I am not British. My husband is. But we both recently went to our first panto, Sleeping Beauty, in Swansea, Wales.

A British panto is the retelling of a classic fairytale in musical form. The lead players are usually well-known actors from TV, stage, etc. Some of the lesser characters are brought in or well known local actors. The ensemble consists of kids and adults who are local actors/theatre students. Audience participation, in the form of "boo", "yay", "awwww", etc., is encouraged. There is often a good and/or bad fairy, a simpleminded comedian who interacts with the kids in the audience and a "dame"- a guy dressed in bad drag. There is a lot of innuendo meant to go over the heads of the kids and entertain the adults, much of which comes from the dame. There are local jokes and references to the main actors' best-known roles.

This play had Sleeping Beauty, her father the King, the Prince, Silly Billy (the simpleminded comedian), a dame (Nurse Nelly), a good fairy (yay!) and fairy “Bodybag” (boo!!!). The Prince and Sleeping Beauty played the story straightforwardly. Everyone else went back and forth between moving the story along and just goofing around - improvising and entertaining the audience while the set was being changed, etc. The first act was fairly close to the plot of the fairytale. It began with Sleeping Beauty being born and the fairies lining up to give her gifts. Bodybag was not invited and thus cursed the baby to prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die before her eighteenth birthday. It ended with Sleeping Beauty pricking her finger on a spinning wheel despite the best efforts of the Prince and the King.

At some point the audience was thrown sweets (candy) and squirted with water guns. (My daughter was sorely disappointed not to get wet.) Nurse Nelly meanwhile, picked out some hapless guy from the audience and flirted with him shamelessly from the stage for the whole show. A somewhat traditional scene had Billy and Nurse Nelly baking. They were making "toad in the hole" - a British dish with sausages hidden in a kind of bready batter. Aside from the sausage innuendos, there was flour flying in Billy's face and smoke from the oven that prompted the audience to obligingly shout "Look behind you!"

The second act was a departure from the fairytale. Of course the good fairy had changed the curse from death to a sleep of 100 years. How was the Prince going to live 100 years to awaken her? She sent him flying thru time! The flying scene was fantastic with wonderful special effects. I leaned over to my daughter and said "[The Prince] is flying". She condescendingly whispered back to me that he was just on strings.

When the Prince landed, he went to Sleeping Beauty and awakened her. But Bodybag was not done. I am afraid to tell you what happened next! Being a huge fan of the actor who played the Prince, I was prepared to storm the stage but I held myself back. The bad fairy tried to steal the Prince! She hypnotized him and tried to get him to marry her! (Boo!!! Hiss!!!!) Sleeping Beauty showed up just in time and he was saved by the power of love. (Awwwww!!!!) Then Bodybag turned into DRAGON Bodybag and tried to stop them. The swashbuckling hero fought the dragon and eventually killed it. The closing scene with plenty of singing and dancing was Sleeping Beauty’s eighteenth birthday party combined with her wedding.

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Space didn't allow Becky to include all the Pantomime traditions we were treated to. Wikipedia has an excellent description of Pantomime, and how it works, if you want to find out more. And of course, we welcome your comments and questions.

A Big Fuss Over Nothing: England 2010 Part 1

We generally get to visit England about once every eighteen months, and about once every three years we get to visit over Christmas. A slight logistical problem where my Wife works meant that we had to visit over New Year instead of Christmas itself.

There were two main concerns we had before and during our trip this time: Flight security and the weather. The failed attempt to bring down an airliner on Christmas day resulted in changes to security procedures. It looked like flights coming into the US were where most changes were taking place, so before we left, we were keeping an eye on the latest news. Flights were being delayed, and the carry-on baggage allowance for planes into the US was reduced, both in maximum size and in number of items. Since the Christmas Day incident involved someone spending a long time in the bathroom, then attempting to explode chemicals in their lap, there were also stories about passengers being forced to stay in their seats with nothing in their laps for the final hour of flights. That particularly concerned us, since we were flying with a five-year-old. We also heard that the in-flight entertainment might be disabled, so no-one would know when we were actually over US airspace.

We hoped that these measures would be relaxed during the two weeks we were in England, and that was, thankfully, the case. My Father got worried, however, when he saw a news story about a student at Newark airport who went past the security point to kiss his girlfriend, which led to a huge incident. I think my Father thought that I might be arrested for kissing my Wife! In fact, the security seemed to be pretty much the same as we had experienced in the past, and neither of our flights were delayed.

Generally speaking, the weather in New Jersey is more extreme than in England. We have colder winters, with more snow, and the summers are hotter and more humid. We left New Jersey with snow on the ground, and by the time we returned, the snow had gone. England, however, was experiencing record cold weather, and lots of snow! While by New Jersey standards it wasn't that bad, England is not used to much in the way of snow and ice, and therefore does not invest in the equipment and measures that other places do. Therefore, the entire country grinds to a halt if there are more than a few flakes of snow on the ground. During our trip, the news was full of weather-related stories, such as the sharing and rationing of the grit used to keep the roads free of ice, and worries that important exams might have to be canceled because of school closures.

The poor weather did mean that the bulk of our vacation was spent at my parents' house, and not getting out and about doing the fun things we usually get up to. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. We were forced to take a much-needed break doing pretty much nothing. The weather improved towards the end of our visit, which allowed us to take a planned side-trip to Wales (more about that in a future entry), and meant that our journey home was problem-free.

It's great to be back writing for my blog again. I'd love to hear from you, so please do make a comment. Did you travel over the holidays? How did things go for you?

Love and Dancing

I have written here before of my love of American folk music and acoustic singer-songwriters, but I do not think I have mentioned my secret weakness for 1980s synthpop. I consider it secret because my Wife hates it, so I usually end up playing it when she is not around. Fortunately, my five-year-old daughter seems to like it too, and we are often to be found bopping in the kitchen to Erasure, The Human League, Yazoo (known as Yaz in the US), OMD, Depeche Mode or The Thompson Twins.

As a late-adopter of CDs, I have a huge collection of vinyl records at my parents' house in England, left there because of the expense and difficulty in getting them over to the US. Among the collection is an album from 1982 called Love and Dancing, which is billed as being by "The League Unlimited Orchestra." I recently obtained a copy of the album, which was always very dear to my heart, and it has made me insanely happy.

Love and Dancing is essentially an album of dance remixes of tracks from the influential Dare album, which was made in 1981 by the Sheffield band, The Human League. It was one of the very first remix albums, a producer project, and as such was groundbreaking. Martin Rushent, the producer of Dare, put it together the hard way, by cutting up tapes. Rushent is now 61 and back producing after retiring from the business.

Listening again to this album after so long instantly transported me back to the eighties. I fondly remember a street performer in London's Covent Garden doing a fantastic but hilarious robotic dance to tracks from the album. Its stuttering style was perfect for the purpose. I have been playing it rather a lot just recently, so it is a good job my daughter likes it. My Wife does not, and when I asked my Brother in England what he thought of it, he said that he always preferred the original. So, perhaps I am pretty much on my own. I did ask on Twitter and Facebook if anyone remembered it and one friend in England (Hi Paul!) said he does have the album and likes it.

Getting this album has prompted me to get the rest of The Human League's albums (some of which I had on vinyl in England). It has also got me catching up with some of my other favorite artists of that period. It has even got me checking out web-resources about old synthesizers (I used to play synths myself in the eighties). I think you could say this was an influential album for me.

If you have any interest in Love and Dancing or The Human League, I discovered that a cool CD containing both Dare and Love and Dancing was released in 2002. That is a bargain!

Do you have favorite music from your past that instantly conjures up a particular period in time for you? Please do share by making a comment.

I Might Still Be in Luton If Not For the Web

Some of my American friends, knowing that I do so much on the Internet, think that I must use it to keep in touch with friends and family in England. The truth is, with the exception of my Brother, who got his first computer just a month or two back, very few of them have access to the Internet. Or if they do, they rarely use it. So, having been online since before the widespread use of the World Wide Web (I was around in the days of online Bulletin Board Systems), I've been a bit of a pioneer.


As I've written elsewhere, I met my American Wife (while I was living in my home town of Luton, England) through a mutual love of American folk music. We were both on a discussion group for singer-songwriter Dar Williams, when she e-mailed me about something I said on the group. A friendship grew over the Internet, which turned into love.


When we married, I moved here, and while I was waiting for a work permit, I took an online course to keep my computer skills up to date. A chance e-mail to my instructor led to him employing me. I've worked for the company for around ten years.


These days, I have made many friends through the Internet, on sites like Twitter and Facebook. Using e-mail, the Web and Social Media sites has helped me with my work for local nonprofit and community groups. Of course, it has enabled me to write my blog, which is a welcomed creative outlet. I'm grateful too, that I have a small group of faithful readers, scattered around the globe


As someone who has always been a little shy, I do believe that if it wasn't for the Internet, I might still be living in my home town of Luton.

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.

An Englishman in San Diego - Ocean, Mountains, Desert...and Dessert

Our fourth day at San Diego was spent exploring many different terrains. An early start took us out to Point Loma, the home of the Cabrillo National Monument, Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery and various naval installations. We were there to explore the renowned tidepools. Hitting this place at around low tide (in our case, a little after 10am) revealed a rocky landscape, full of little pools, containing an abundance of small sea-life, such as crabs (including hermit crabs), limpets, barnacles, mussels and abalones. If you ever come here, bring waterproof shoes with a good grip. It is slippery!

California has many State parks. Two adjoining ones, Cuyamaca Rancho and Anza Borrego, were next on our itinerary. Cuyamaca Rancho is very mountainous. When we went, we did not see much evidence of wildlife, but mountain lions (pumas) have attacked hikers and bicyclists on trails in the area.

Right next door to Cuyamaco Rancho is Anza Borrego National Park, and even without the signs, it is easy to spot where it begins. The terrain becomes more sparse with flat plains among the mountains and various cacti dotted around. It is a desert, but at this time of year, and after plenty of rain, the area looks more green and lush.

I was talking on-line a while back to a work-colleague of mine, who used to live in San Diego, and asked her about places I might visit with my family. After I told her that we were considering visiting Cuyamaca Rancho and Anza Borrego on one of our days here, she recommended that we stop for lunch at Julian, a small town in the area. She said that we must try the apple pie there. On our way, we stopped at a small antique market just outside of Julian, and after we had looked around for a while, the proprietor struck up a bit of a conversation with us. We mentioned to her that a friend recommended that we try apple pie in Julian, and we asked her where she would recommend trying it. She recommended The Julian Pie Company.

Julian is a small town, with lots of little shops along the main street, many of them catering to tourists. You can take a horse-drawn carriage drive up and down the street. In addition, of course, there is pie! The place has a nickname of "Pie Town." Although we did not try pie anywhere else, The Julian Pie Company must be at least one of the best places to sample this quintessential American food. Unlike many other places designed to accommodate tourists, this place offers great food at great value. We had a sandwich, potato chips, drink and a honking big slice of delicious pie for just under $8 each and sat out on the front deck watching the world go by. This family-owned and run business even grows their own apples!

Before setting out on our vacation, my Wife had discovered that an old friend had moved with her family to San Diego. Up until early evening, we had planned to visit them for dinner after our day out. Unfortunately, we felt the effects of the swine flu panic again. There was a confirmed case at the school one of their daughters attended and it was immediately closed. The school advised that contact with others should be limited until after the incubation period had passed, so we had to call off our dinner plans and eat alone.

An Englishman in San Diego - Whales, Seals, Sea Lions and Fish & Chips

We spent our first full day in San Diego at SeaWorld. While the thought of animals in captivity, performing whales, dolphins, sea lions, etc., may put some people off, it is undoubtedly a lot of fun for the little ones, not to mention educational. We went when we were in San Diego two years ago, and while it is still fresh in the minds of my Wife and me, our daughter, who was two at the time, had completely forgotten about that first trip.

We thoroughly recommend Breakfast With Shamu, a very good poolside buffet breakfast. Poolside, referring to one of the smaller killer whale pools. One or two of the whale trainers put one of their whales through its paces right next to you as you eat. Shamu is a collective and trademarked name for any of the performing killer whales (orcas) at all of SeaWorld's various locations. We were introduced, as we were last time when we were here, to the 45-year-old and very gentle female named Corky. I actually prefer the Breakfast with Shamu experience to the big whale show they put on at SeaWorld, but there is no doubt that Believe, featuring many of the whales here, is quite a spectacle. If you are with an enthusiastic four-year-old, prepare to have to sit in the "Soak Zone," anywhere in the first 20 rows or so around Shamu Stadium. In addition to getting wet when the whales jump, one of the tricks they do is to splash the audience with their tails.

The next day, we went on a two-hour cruise along the San Diego coastline. Arriving at the harbor area, we were surprised to see several huge cruise ships in dock, many tourists milling around, and TV news crews interviewing people. We are, of course, in the middle of a panic about swine flu, and San Diego is in very close proximity to Mexico, its current epicenter. Two cruise ships were originally scheduled to go to Mexico, but the swine flu scare had caused them to divert to San Diego, resulting in many more people than usual in the vicinity.

San Diego is known for its connection with the US Navy, and our more modest cruise took us first under the Coronado Bridge, showing us many of the Navy ships stationed here. When we turned around and headed in the opposite direction, we saw more naval activity, including Navy SEALs in a training exercise jumping out of helicopters into the water, and dolphins being trained for special operations out of small boats. We also saw many wild California sea lions. Upon our return to the harbor, and in the interests of research for my readers, we ate some very good fish and chips at Anthony's Fish Grotto (in the quick-serve "Fishette" section, where you can sit out by the water).

As some of you may know, I work for a company that offers on-line education. The company is based in Temecula, California, not that far from San Diego. For the first time in the ten years that I have worked for them, I managed to meet in person, one of my work colleagues. Ending the day, my colleague joined us with her husband for a pizza dinner at Escondido, a city about halfway between San Diego and Temecula.

An Englishman in San Diego - Football and Beer

The family and I are currently vacationing in San Diego, California. My Wife was due to attend a conference here, so we decided to extend the trip and make a vacation (or a holiday, for the benefit of my British friends) of it.

One thing that may surprise some is how long it takes to get from one side of the USA to the other. We live on the East coast (New Jersey), and San Diego is on the West coast in California. It takes almost as long to fly from Newark Airport, New Jersey to San Diego, California (about 6 hours) as it takes to fly from New Jersey to London (about 7 hours).

There is also a three hour time difference, so while we arrived at our hotel at about 6pm local time, it felt like 9pm to us, so we were feeling pretty tired and hungry. The first thing we did was head for the hotel’s bar and grill, known as The Firefly.

I have written before about some of the responses I get when people hear my English accent. I got a rare one at The Firefly. The greeter, a small Mexican man, sat us at our table and after a bit of small talk while he was making us comfortable, turned to me and asked if I liked football. I had assumed he was talking about American football (which I generally refer to as “rugby for wimps” due to the wearing of all that body-armor), and thought he was going to offer to change the channel on the television to some big game. However, he had noticed my English accent, and was asking me whether I followed what they generally refer to here as soccer. I hated to disappoint the poor chap who, it turned out, was a big Manchester United supporter, but I have never really cared much for that game either. I figured that he probably did not get many opportunities to talk about British soccer with a real live Brit, so I tried my best to fake it a little. He seemed satisfied when I told him my home team was Luton Town, a team that once was moderately successful, but who I believe have not done that well in the years I have been in the US.

If this Englishman knows embarrassingly little about football, I do know a good pint when I taste it, and I was not disappointed with the selection of beers on tap. The Firefly prides itself on offering a good range of beers from local microbreweries, small independent companies handcrafting their own brews. If you are ever out here, I thoroughly recommend Red Trolley Ale, a red ale that I would describe as “hoppy and hearty.”

A New Jerseyan in England

I had a very interesting conversation via Twitter, the social networking site, over the weekend. I was talking with Debra Denton, known on Twitter as @debra47, an American woman married to an Englishman and living in England. In addition to us living in each other's countries (she also comes from New Jersey) and being married to a native, we have quite a few other things in common. She is also a blogger. Her blog is Power Pop Review. We both moved to another country to get married quite late in life. We also both met our spouses over the Internet because of a mutual love of music. As I have mentioned on this blog in the past, I met my Wife on the Internet discussion group for singer-songwriter Dar Williams. Debra met her husband on the now sadly defunct music site Audiogalaxy.

Our conversation began when a comment about wine evolved into a little conversation about single malt scotch, which I adore, but cannot really afford here in the US. Debra developed a taste after a tour of a whisky distillery a while back. What became the most interesting part of our conversation started when she asked me what I missed about England, apart from fish & chips and single malt scotch. I told her I missed my local pub. Of course, I might be missing it even if I was back in England. We talked about the alarming rate at which pubs in the UK are closing (at the time of writing, six pubs are closing each day). High beer prices and a recent ban on smoking in pubs seem to have resulted in most people deciding to stay at home. There they can smoke, drink cheap supermarket booze and watch their widescreen TVs.

Debra told me that what she misses most about New Jersey is being able to find a diner, with a huge, reasonably priced menu, open 24 hours a day. She believes that she is healthier since she moved to England, because she is able to walk much more than she was able to in New Jersey. Although my particular neighborhood is pretty walkable (I told her my family had walked to a new diner just the previous day, much to her surprise), much of New Jersey is not pedestrian-friendly. People get in their cars to drive a few blocks. On recent trips back to the US, Debra noticed that many "downtown" areas (town centres) have disappeared as large superstores appear on the outskirts of towns, pretty much sucking the heart out of them.

In my adopted hometown, Edison, New Jersey, many people work elsewhere, and only come back to Edison to sleep. With their long hours, there is no time to get involved in things going on locally. This is happening in the US and in the UK. Debra suggested that perhaps this lack of community is what has drawn both of us, along with many others, into Internet-based groups. I suggested that if more companies allowed their workers to telecommute when practical, it might help restore local communities because people would be around much more, and it would help the environment. Many employers fear that if they are not standing over their workers, they will waste time. However, I have found that telecommuting, with its lack of physical distractions, often results in increased productivity.

We discovered that we were both regularly asked, "Do you prefer it over here or over there?" We have the same answer too: "There's good and bad in both." We can both honestly say that there are things we love and dislike about our countries of birth and our adopted homes. We are caught between two cultures and we get the best and the worst of each.

We also both get comments about how our accents have not changed. Debra is asked a lot if she is a Canadian. I wondered if that was perhaps because people hoped she was not American, because in the UK, Americans have often been tarred with the "Bush brush." Debra says that she has certainly experienced some anti-Americanism, but that it seems to be subsiding since the election of President Barack Obama.

I have invited Debra to write a guest post in this blog, and she has said that she would love to. I think it would make an interesting counterpoint to my own posts here.

Are you living in a country other than the one in which you were brought up? Perhaps you have a friend in this situation. Please do post a comment and share your observations.

Ten Years

Today is my tenth wedding anniversary. Sometimes it seems like I have been married forever, and other times it seems like yesterday. It is true that many things have happened during the past ten years, and I hate to admit that many have slipped out of my sieve-like mind. However, my parents' fiftieth anniversary is coming up later this month. I can only imagine the things that they have experienced and forgotten.

As I described in one of my first blog entries, the date we were to get married was largely down to what was then known as the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service), what is now USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Services). I was in England and B. was here in New Jersey. We had no idea how long it would be before the INS approved our Fiance Visa, but we knew that we only had 90 days following approval to get married. We got our approval in December 1998, slightly earlier than we had expected, which meant that with the holiday season just around the corner, I had to make travel arrangements, and we had to plan a wedding.

Fortunately, B. and I had similar ideas for what we wanted from a wedding. We did want an occasion, rather than a simple official marriage. However, we wanted a wedding we could enjoy ourselves. We had heard all too often about couples who had big weddings and who had not enjoyed the day themselves, because the event was geared towards other people.

We agreed on the venue we wanted. The Palmyra Tea Room in Bound Brook, New Jersey, was a great place that we used to visit together. It had a wonderful Bohemian feel to it, with mismatched chairs, tables and china. It had an adjoining art-gallery, lots of books, tasty food and great people. Fortunately, although they had never done a wedding there before, they agreed to do it for us. We were to have the wedding in the art-gallery, and then we would move into the tea room itself for the reception. They would close for the day and provide the food.

The other preparations seem to have disappeared in a blur from my memory, but one thing that we were proud of was that B. and a friend actually made their own paper for the invitations. Since both B. and her Mother suffer badly from allergies to many flowers, we were to have artificial ones, and again, B. and a friend made the arrangements.

I do not have a large or particularly close extended family, and my parents don't fly, so my Brother was to be the sole family representative - and my best man. On the other hand, B. does have a large, close family, so the Brits were a little outnumbered. Fortunately, B's family are a lot of fun, and a rehearsal dinner ended up with most of us sitting underneath the tables, playing with kids. My stag night consisted of My Brother, a friend and I at our house with a bottle of Power's Irish whiskey. It was more fun than you might imagine, and we even managed to break some furniture!

The wedding itself, as planned, was a lot of fun, even for us. We had friends there who we had met on the internet-based music community where B. and I first met, so that did balance out B's huge family a little. One of them acted as DJ for the ceremony and reception, so the day was filled with the music we loved. The local Mayor presided over the ceremony, we drank "champagne" from a local winery, and a singer-songwriter friend performed for us.

The one sad part of the whole thing is that The Palmyra Tea Room is no more. It fell victim to Hurricane Floyd in 1999, when much of Bound Brook was completely submerged. Because of the huge cost of repairs, and apparent disputes with the landlord over responsibility for those repairs, it never reopened its doors.

One day, I'll write about our honeymoon, because, like our wedding, it was a little unusual, but so "us." For now, I want to take this opportunity to wish my dear Wife a happy anniversary. The first song to play after our wedding was "Love is the Ride" by Lucy Kaplansky. And it has been a ride. Sometimes, a joy-ride, sometimes a little bit of a white-knuckle ride. But I could not imagine sharing it with anyone else.

Be Mine, Valentine!

On this St. Valentine's Day, I wanted to outline the main differences between Valentine's Day in Britain and in the US.

In Britain, the tradition is to send Valentine's cards anonymously to the person or people in whom you are interested. I have since found out that the probable origin of this is a Lancashire tradition, which actually may go back to Roman times. Apparently, eligible young men and women put cards with their names on into two separate piles, and each girl and boy took a card at random. Each person made their own subsequent arrangements, having a choice of two options.

When I moved to the US, I was surprised to find out that people sign their Valentine's cards. Not only that, but it is customary for children to bring tiny little cards (and sometimes candy) to school for every child in class. I clearly remember the difficulty of trying to sneak a card into the locker or bag of girls I "fancied" at school.

My Wife has indulged me in my preference for anonymous cards.

Talking of indulgence, I wanted to hijack this blog post for personal reasons. If it all proves too much, I recommend the Wikipedia article on Valentine's Day.

Firstly a cute story: My four year old daughter went to her dance class this week, and one of the little girls in her class had brought Valentine's cards and gifts for everyone. Not knowing who would be there, her Mother had written who they were from, but had not written the names of any of the intended recipients. She handed a bag of them to the teacher to hand out. Each time my daughter (who is an excellent reader) was given a Valentine, she tried to give it to the girl the card was from. She thought it had been given to her by mistake.

Last, but certainly not least, I have been sick for the last few days, and it has rather limited my plans as far as Valentine's cards or gifts are concerned. Therefore, I am taking advantage of this very public channel to wish my Wife B. a Happy Valentine's Day. I think it's legitimate that I share it here, since she is the reason I moved to the US in the first place, and she continues to be my inspiration.

With All My Love

From

Your Biggest Admirer

Let it snow!

Yesterday I had to cancel a board meeting of the Friends of the Edison, NJ Public Library (of which I am president) because of the snow. The snow was not particularly bad but we were expecting more in the late afternoon and early evening, and it was going to be very cold. Some of the members are seniors, and some have mobility issues. In addition, we did not have a whole lot to talk about, so to drag everyone out seemed a little foolish. Some schools in Edison closed or were opening a little later than usual. My daughter's preschool was operating as normal, however, so I took a push broom to my van, while warming it up, so I could pick her up (my Wife takes her in).



I admit it, I hate snow intensely and always have. I seem to recall telling other kids at school that I was allergic to snow, in an attempt to put them off pelting me with snowballs. Here in New Jersey, the summers are warmer than England (and more humid), and the winters are colder, so I have to live with it. At least I work from home, so I rarely have to go out in the snow. My Wife, brought up in Michigan, does not have any problem with the snow, or driving in it. On a recent trip to my Mother-in-Law's in Grand Rapids, Michigan for Christmas, I drove the non-snowy parts. My Wife drove the parts of the journey where the snow was worse - with me sitting white-knuckled in the passenger seat. I remember on my first trip to visit my in-laws that my Wife took the car up a very steep snow-covered hill a few blocks away from the family home, just for a lark, with me panicking all the way. My four-year old daughter has inherited my Wife's snow-genes, as she regularly demonstrates when we arrive home in the snow, and she takes off into the back yard to frolic. I am usually standing on the back step yelling for her to come back in.

Britain, especially England, is not used to much snow. However, it has had some the last few days. As is usual when Britain gets snow, the country pretty much stopped. Airports and other transportation closed down and so did the schools. Snow shut down London. The media was full of it. There were stories about how to cope with the snow (complete with ridicule from colder, snowier countries). Website Londonist had the headline Snow Bonkersness. The Daily Mail, in typical Daily Mail fashion, focused on business leaders' anger at school closures with their story entitled Frozen out by health and safety: Third day off lessons as schools close 'because children might get ice in their eyes'. There were sad stories, and there were plenty of wonderful photos.

The reason why Britain is never prepared for the snow is purely down to economics. It is because it hardly ever happens. Those same Daily Mail readers would have thrown a hissy-fit if a few weeks ago, Boris Johnson (The Mayor of London) had been spending money on snowploughs or if the railway services had increased fares in order to buy equipment for de-icing the rails.

Are you a snow-fan or snow-wimp? Are you going to be out in it, or inside drinking hot-chocolate? Please let me know by posting a comment.

The Quest for Fish & Chips

One of the first things I do whenever I visit my family in England is to treat everyone to fish & chips. Invariably, I am craving them weeks before we go. My parents always warn me that the local "chippy" serves huge portions and not to get too much. I still end up with loads left over, even after we all have heaping plates. The chip shop near my parents' house is not the best, but it's not bad. They're nice people and it's close, so the food stays hot. They also serve mushy peas, the smooshed up processed peas, most often consumed in the North of England, that my Wife has inexplicably developed a taste for.

Since moving to the US, I have often been "tricked" into trying meals posing as fish & chips. My Wife was very excited when a fast food joint close to where we lived changed to a branch of Arthur Treacher's Fish and Chips. The food was about as authentic as the premise that Arthur Treacher (an English character actor known for his portrayal of "The perfect English Butler" in movies of the 1930s) had anything to do with fish & chips. Encouragingly, they had malt vinegar, the best authentic condiment, on each table. However, the chips seemed to be made of extruded potato, and quite bizarrely, the meal came with hush puppies (fried cornbread balls) and coleslaw. I have frequently seen my favorite listed on menus, and just about every time I have been disappointed. The best fish and chips I tasted here were at O'Halloran's, the Irish pub I wrote about recently.

Nevertheless, the best fish & chips are British, and a little over a week ago, Chef Simon Rimmer announced the best of the best. Anstruther Fish Bar in Fife, Scotland, beat off about a thousand competitors to win the 2008 title National Fish & Chip Shop of the Year. The shop was frequented by Prince William when he was at university and has also been visited by Robert de Niro, Robert Duvall and Tom Hanks. Organizers Seafish said, "one in every £100 spent on food is in a fish and chip shop" and that chip shop profits are increasing as the economy gets worse. Chippies are caring about sourcing food responsibly too. The winner of the 21st annual award "serves ethically sourced North Sea haddock, Pittenweem prawns and Shetland organic cod from the world’s first sustainable solution to wild cod fisheries."

I'll settle for cod (or the more responsible choice, pollack) and chips at my parents' local chippy. How about you? Do you know a great place to have fish & chips? Please post a comment and let me know.

Passions (oo-er Missus!)

Now that I've been writing this blog for a few weeks, perhaps I should take you into my confidence about why I'm doing it. At first I felt driven to start writing about some of my experiences before I started forgetting about them. But there's more than that, as I've discovered as I've felt my way around.

I imagine that you and I are sitting in a pub, and that you have engaged me in conversation. You discover that I'm English, and that piques your interest a little. You may be a bit of an anglophile. You may be curious as to what I miss about "home." I'd love to share some of my experiences with you.

You may be another Brit in the US, and over a pint we could exchange some funny tales, some probably at the expense of America and Americans. But only a gentle bit of fun, mind you. Like me, you probably really like it over here, even if some things frustrate you from time to time. We might chat a bit about stories in the news in Britain.

Or you might be a Brit, one of those I meet when I pay a visit to England, probably in a pub, amazed at some of the things "those crazy yanks" get up to. You might want to find out if what you see in the newspapers, TV and movies is true. You've heard that "in the US everyone carries guns, it's really violent and Americans are arrogant." You might suspect that this is not the entire picture, and I'd be happy to paint a bit of a better picture for you.

But wherever we have our little chat, I'm going to be talking - and blogging - about things that I'm passionate about. I love politics, both UK and US (when I can fathom it out), but only certain aspects of it. I'm what they call over here a "bleeding heart liberal", often with a sneer, but I wear my bleeding heart on my sleeve and I'm proud about that. I love people, and I want us all to live in peace with each other and with the earth, to be healthy and happy and well-fed. I like to do my part to help that happen.

I love food. I love eating and cooking it. I enjoy all types of food. I feel driven to dispel some of those cliched views that "all British food is bland." While I don't have much time for it these days, I derive a great deal of pleasure from growing something myself, then cooking and eating it. And I love drinking good beer, wine and spirits (hard-liquor).

Books make me very happy. Since I was a child, I've always read. Whether it's vicariously living the life of another, or learning a new skill, I find comfort in the written word. Film and TV too.

Music has always been part of my life. I learned to play as a child, considered teaching it at one point, but now prefer to preserve my passion for it by not making it my career. At its best, music is an international language that we can all understand. Music was what brought my Wife and I together, even though thousands of miles separated us.

And like many people, I love a good gossip. I love to poke fun at a celebrity's expense. But I can also poke fun at myself - heck, I might as well join in with everyone else who's doing it!

I Love Your Accent

In a comment she made about an earlier entry, my Wife said:

"When people hear Graham's accent generally one of two things happen: 1) They ask if he's from Australia; 2) They ask where he's from and he deadpans... "New Jersey. Can't you tell by the accent?"

Those are definitely common reactions that people have when they hear my accent. There are others too.

My accent is both a blessing and a curse, as they say. Mostly a blessing. Occasionally a curse. In true British fashion, I'll start with the negative. I recall chasing a "sales associate" around Target trying to get him to understand what I meant when I said I wanted "batteries." Again and again I carefully said the word. Again and again he said he had no idea what I wanted. I wondered whether there was a different word that Americans used - I was sure there was not. I pronounced it carefully and slowly. Still no luck. In the end, my Wife took pity on me, and said the word "batteries" - I swear she said it exactly the same as I had done, but magically, we were shown where the batteries were kept. This kind of thing happens from time to time, and it can be frustrating.

But mostly, my accent is a good thing. It gets me noticed, and in a good way. It opens doors, and sometimes gives me an unfair advantage. For some reason, unlike many other accents, an English accent sounds very attractive to American ears. They seem to think it indicates sophistication. For the record, my accent, from my home town of Luton , is quite similar to a London accent, and to English ears is more likely to be associated with lack of education - certainly not sophisticated.

But over here, many people go to great lengths to tell me how much they love my accent, and I've heard similar things from other expat Brits I've encountered here. I've had people in stores - and before my Wife chimes in and points this out, probably pretty equally divided between women and men - cooing over my accent, telling me they could listen to me talk all day.

When I first moved over here, I often would pick up on an English accent if I heard someone in the vicinity. One of the first expats I met over here was a gentleman who has made a career out of recording talking books for the blind. Apparently, they really love their stories read with an English accent. I remember him recommending that I try doing this myself some time.

But these days, my Wife is more likely to hear a British accent than I am. I've become quite deaf to the differences between American and British accents. As for my own accent, people over here say that my accent has not changed. My Wife thinks (and I agree) that whenever I talk to family back home, which I do most Sundays, my accent gets even more pronounced. Occasionally, the folks back home think that I'm sounding more American.

As an added bonus, I thought I'd share this lovely resource with you: How to Speak in a British Accent

A Christmas Dedication

My Wife has until now not been aware that I started this blog. Yet, if it hadn't been for her, there would be no blog. So, on this Christmas Day, instead of a regular entry, I dedicate An Englishman In New Jersey to my wonderful Wife, B. This is not just my story, it's our story. Happy Christmas!

There's No Sleeping at the INS!

Did you ever see the movie Green Card, with Gerard Depardieu and Andie McDowell? An American woman and a French man marry in order for him to get a Green Card. They spend much of the movie studying each others' habits, living arrangements, etc., so they'll appear to be a genuine couple. Ever think that it might present a realistic view of what it's like for an American woman to marry someone from outside the United States? Think again!

Bear in mind that the events I describe took place pre-9/11, so heaven only knows what the process is like now. It was also a grueling bureaucratic procedure that I've tried to push to the back of my mind, so the sequence of events is probably off, and I've no doubt forgotten many aspects of it.

Pretty much as soon as I'd proposed to B. we started researching what we'd have to do to get me into the country. Fortunately, we were both net-savvy, and there were online discussion groups full of couples who had been in, or were going through similar situations to us. We found out that, although tedious, the process was something we could do ourselves, without the help of an attorney, which would save us some money.

So first B. had to apply to what was then the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service) - what is now USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Services) - for permission for me to come over to the US on what is known as a "Fiance Visa." We didn't know how long that would take to process, so we couldn't, of course, make any plans until we received the visa. When we received the go-ahead, we only had a 90-day window in which to get married. Yep, that's right - we had to plan a wedding in addition to planning for me to get over to the States within 3 Months. We got our approval in December 1998. I was over by Christmas 1998, and we were married in March 1999.

I have to say, even given the limited time we had, we had the best wedding! It fitted our personalities perfectly. It was held at a little tea-room which we had often visited together. It had a small art-gallery attached, so we had the wedding in the art-gallery and the reception in the tea-room. Unlike many couples, we actually got to enjoy our little wedding, surrounded by family and friends, one friend providing the music, another performing a song she'd written for us.

Of course, the immigration process was still not over for us. Once we were married, we had to initiate the Green Card procedure. Once we'd completed the paperwork and submitted the various documentation and filing fees, it was a waiting game, but one with some rules that we had to be aware of.

Firstly, if I wanted to work, I had to apply for a separate work permit. That was worth doing, because it takes a long time to get a Green Card. One other thing we had to take care of was something known bizarrely as "Advance Parole." This means that if we wanted to leave the country for any reason, we needed permission for me to do so, otherwise I would be considered as having abandoned my Green Card application and wouldn't be allowed back in the US. This has sadly happened to some couples, resulting in them being separated for months on end.

We were dealing with Newark INS. They did not let you make appointments to see them to get Advance Parole. All we could do is line up on the street at 4am with the several hundred others waiting to get into the building when it opened. They would only allow a certain number of people in during the day, so if we didn't get there in time, we were out of luck. When we eventually got into the building, there was a further wait during a shift change. Many people sat on the floor while waiting. B. actually lay down and rested her eyes for a while, during which time a security guard prodded her with his foot, saying "There's no sleeping at the INS!" Eventually we got herded into another room, which had its blinds closed. It'd all taken such a long time to get this far, that we had no concept of the time. We pulled the blinds aside a little to look outside and almost immediately a head popped up above a partition, telling us that we were not allowed to look outside! After going through all this, at least I had my Advance Parole approved, which allowed us to visit my parents in England.

Eventually, my Green Card came through. We were given an appointment at Newark for an interview prior to getting it. That was the closest we ever got to the situation portrayed in "Green Card." Our one and only trick question came when the woman conducting our interview asked Becky how I spelled my surname. I've spent just about my whole life spelling my name for people, so I started blurting it out, before B. shot me a look, and I realized that she was being tested. And she did get it right!

How did you two meet?

When I start talking with someone for the first time and they hear my accent, the first question they usually ask is "Where do you come from?" The second is "What brings you over here?", to which I usually answer "My Wife." The third question is usually "How did you two meet?" So in true American TV series style, here's a quick summary:

Previously in Graham's Life.....

Graham inexplicably develops a taste for English folk music, regularly going to folk festivals, such as The Cambridge Folk Festival, where one year he hears a new American singer-songwriter called Dar Williams. He starts listening to American Folk Music and joins the Dar List, an e-mail based discussion group for fans of Dar Williams. He starts posting on a fairly regular basis. He receives an e-mail one day from an American woman living in New Jersey commenting on something he'd posted to the list. Let's call her "B." Graham and B start e-mailing each other on a fairly regular basis, and a friendship ensues.

In these pre-IM/Chat-room days, Graham decides to start an IRC channel, so that like-minded fans can get together on Friday nights and chat. Despite it being a lively place, Graham and B often find themselves still chatting with each other through the night and into the morning. Something is going on here.

One Friday evening on IRC, with only Graham and a New Zealander still around, B mentions that she has a spare ticket for a local folk concert, and jokingly wonders if anyone wants to come with her. Graham calls her bluff and says sure....