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| Grape Jelly, Grape Jelly, my Kingdom for Grape Jelly! |
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| Talk,
Heather Lennox,
15 January 1999 | |
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Having been an expatriate from Boston U.S. as of aged 13 and living all over the U.K. since then its hard to say I'm no anglophile. I like it here, great music, good comedy, fun kinky nightclubs and 67% of the population quite pleasant.
Sixteen years and a bizarre accent later one has to admit there have been a few things about English life, that as an American, somewhat tarnish that jolly rosy olde glow.
Of course at first there were the obvious changes to expect in my first years here. Fizzy sugar water was to replace the old style Lemonade (those crazy yanks were putting lemons in it!). I had to learn to call an eraser a rubber without blushing, and not make references to anyones fanny in class.
Can I borrow your rubber? Even at 13 that just sounded so gross. It was the different spellings, the smaller things that I never got my head round, like being expected to draw out the word Aluminum, or having to say ToeMahToe like a doofus. I never took to that...or chocolate limes. Citrus fruits and chocolate werent meant to be together. Soon, along came the ads for chocolate oranges and rose-flavoured Turkish delight. Rose-flavoured, chocolate-covered Jell-O is disgusting on so many levels. And what of the other 33% of the country?
The Jam Problem: Of course the English must have invented it. Huge unpleasant piles of goo in 1000 stunning flavours except grape jelly flavour. Damson - redcurrant loganberry fine-cut single-shred giant phobias all of it. They keep making new types of jam to compensate for the fact that grape jelly is just too American to admit that its better than everything else is. They make faces at the suggestion of grape jelly whilst eating jellied eels, periwinkles, old boots and chips wrapped up in newspaper and other things found within the brown and gucky Thames. Embracing my new culture was becoming more cumbersome, but I began to understand why few English people had weight problems. Products like Fairy Liquid or Mr. Brains Faggots -in a rich country sauce kept me giggling right through my teens. In fact, Im giggling now. But still I missed some American things like mad-libs, miracle whip, ringdings, slim jims, dumdums, fried clams, devil dogs, fudgicles and cars with any kind of style.
Nevertheless, I would do as the Romans, I was somewhere else now, and that was that.
Until, THEY started trying to do America.Authentic American baked beans pizza, orange & walnut cake, and chocolate lime ice cream flooded the markets. All furnished with a little American flag logo. Anytime I see that graphic I know it means CAUTION:dry.
Soon after that; horrible, middle-aged, fat, moany English singers in synthetic sweaters from Birmingham started churning out fake Country &
Western songs, whining about riding the range around the moors in snakeskin boots. At that point I understood the subtle nuances in the use and pronunciation of the word Shite.
Then the tedious assertions of England's defiance from adopted American terms began to wear me down. The Movies was now The Pictures, or the swimming pool; the baths. Three Musketeers were renamed Milky Ways, Milky Ways were now Mars Bars, and Snickers were Marathons. Marathons were now Curly Wurlies. Miniature Golf must instead be Crazy Golf! Like it matters! My head hurts. Still, the cities are fine, full of culture and more tolerant. But head out to the country and walk in the sunshine of Hell.
Every time I left my Surrey flat someone would ask me first 'what part of the States am I from?' then 'When am I going back?'. Naturally they will assume I am rich because I am an American and that I ought to know their cousin in Dallas. My ex-boyfriend's Dad once asked me if I had a green card. I said pointedly that I was a dual citizen and could stay here forever if I wished. What fun to have had a racist Father in Law. In the home counties, be prepared to only interact with blue eyed, shorthaired blonde Aryan-looking women in business suits. I suspect that they are frequently cloned and used to present all of the country's game
shows, music, news and childrens programmes, as well as marry less
attractive members of England's Royal Family. I believe they originally
all spawned from the star of the 1960s sci-fi programme, U.F.O.
One time I saw someone fall over in the road. My school friends pointed
and laughed. But it wasn't funny. It was like Invasion of the Body
Snatchers, and I was Donald Sutherland. Some of the less clever comedy
seemed to be about people tragically having their eyes poked out; their
fingers mangled in some machinery or some such injury. Everyone would
howl with laughter.
Eventually, the strangeness wore off. I felt less sheepish using words
like daft and bugger and used them frequently. I was less affected
by the site of Robin Reliants with flames painted up the sides or
hearing English people put on fake American accents for the next jibe
about Americans being gum chewing, big haired Hawaiian - shirted types
called Martha or Fred. It would just as easy for me to assume that
England is now a nation of lazy people in shell suits constantly queuing
up at McDonalds; feeling inferior for not being American. But that
wouldnt be true either, now would it?
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