All Things Considered

Differences

I remember hearing somewhere that one of the differences between Americans and the English was that Americans want to be happy, indeed to the extent that they have it in their constitution, but the English want to be right. That struck a chord, because there is nothing so smugly gratifying in theEnglish language as "I told you so". But having been here a while, I suspect that a slightly raised nose serves the same purpose for Americans. And notice this opening paragraph - it seems ok to stick an s on the end of American to discuss them as a collective species, but Englishness requires the propriety of the definite article. And the open friendliness that I love about Americans - which made me feel so churlish when I first camehere with my Londoner's reserve - actually bothers me when a salesman that I don't know personally calls me Adrian without being invited to do so. If I call my bank manager to discuss business, I expect to be called Mr Legg, and expect to call him Mr or Mzz whatever it is that week that the bank's haphazard staffing arrangements have thrown up. A first name would only come into it if we happened to belong to the same golf club or attend the same AA meetings. Actually, in the latter case, I'd probably move my account.

The vernacular is where we really differ, and my erstwhile announcement that I was going to pop out for a quick fag always produced a reaction in my American friends that helped me give up smoking. Similiarly, "pissed" in England means drunk, not angry, and very drunk indeed is "pissed as a newt". Here, that seems to be something to do with Hilary Clinton.

You have a written constitution, a wonderful thing indeed, except that it seems to legitimise the means whereby your children are able to shoot each other. We have no written constitution at all, merely a set of goal-posts which we only see when our political masters get puffed carrying them roundthe pitch, consequently, we just lost our right to remain silent, our freedom of assembly, the right to have musical shebangs without police permission, and a few other hard won rights as well. You have a freedom of information act, we have an official secrets act, however, both our electorates seem equally uniformed.

The dictionary offers some interesting insights. The Oxford English dictionary gives a definiton for "oubliette", which derives from the French verb oublier, to forget. Our lexicographer describes it as "a secret dungeon with access only through a trapdoor", clearly regarding it from the outside.

The American Websters dictionary, sometimes regarded in England as a rather belated damage limitation excercise, defines oubliette as " a secret dungeon with an opening only in the ceiling". Apparently you see dungeons from the inside.

Websters though, is healthier in its attitude to "fetish", and doesn't getaround to the sexual aspect of fetishism until the last of the set of three definitions. The Oxford dictionary enthusiastically puts the sexual one first, very appropriately when one considers Prince Charles' expressed desires concerning Lady Camilla Park-the Rolls, or outbreaks of toe-suckingamongst establishment figures, and the regrettable tendency of conservative members of parliament to be caught getting spanked in very dubious company.

Food is an obvious area for cultural confusion,- scones, biscuits, cookies and so on. But my biggest problem stems from Italy. Acqua minerale gassatta, or in French, gazeuse, has become so ingrained in me that I can't order water in an American restaurant without getting sniggers from the waiter - "Did you say 'water with gas' sir ?"

It's been said that we are two peoples divided by a common language. I hope we're not too divided - just different enough to make being foreign fun. Long may you continue to enjoy our Royal Family as much as we enjoy your demagogues.