More from America - The Bison Letters A Slice of American pie

A slice of American Pie 

The writings of William Bison

Well the most interesting thing upon waking in the USA was that it was not home, and that the bird song was different at dawn, that time of day when you are not asleep but wish that you could get back there. In this instance it was the piercing shriek of some strange bird outside of the window that trilled away for several seconds before stopping with a gargling sound. And then I woke up and found to my own horror that it had been me snoring. A habit that I had clearly hoped to have left behind with all the other baggage in the UK.

It is strange being here and it is also true that things are different but slightly the same. Its these constant inconstancies that I love so much when I travel. The tooth past is Colgate but due to the heat here it does matter that I don’t put the top back on because it oozes out onto the surround of the basin. And why do they always have a tap that size waiting in the middle of the bowl to crack your mouth on as you bend down to wash your face? I actually do this as I slurp up water from the tap to wash the tooth past out of my mouth. And here this is truly an upside down back to front kingdom, the lights switch up for on and down for off, the traffic insist upon creping up on you from the right hand side or is it the left, I am so contra confused that I now sitting her have no idea anymore. At least the taps seem to be the same way round except these are not individual taps rather mixer units with a dirty great piece sticking out at the front.

The birds I learn are Blue Jays and they are beautiful to see, under their wings that have a brilliant steely blue, not like the Jays at home but much more evenly spread. They look like a type of Magpie but smaller. There are other birds and we have seen eagles circling in the thermals, not a lot of hope of photographs because they are far away and often high up.

None of these things are so ardours as the other flying things – Mossies are endemic here and seem to enjoy English flesh and blood, perhaps it’s a throw back to the colonial times. We are told that 4th July is especially celebrated here in only the way Ashland can do it. At a pageant the English will be booed, and the Colonists will be cheered, but as English folk we should be reassured that there will be no real harm done to us.

I have taken to reading my bible – well that would be miracle enough – but to a really new experience for me – reading on the front porch of the house. This serves a double purpose, firstly that I can be seen to be so holy and all the neighbours know that I am a minister on holiday so this makes it doubly holy to be seen to both be reading the Bible and when I am on holiday, but secondly that I can get a slice of American life right there in the street. Now I should explain our position here. Ever watcher Desperate Housewives? Well Levine Close is just like here but without the housewives, or at least the ones that I don’t know yet. So I sat and read and undertake my ethnographic study of Crocker Street. Nothing much happens except that people come by and say Hi and talk a little and are real friendly. But the other day there was a house being cleared down the block – see my colloquialisms are comin on – and a man who was helping parked a big white truck on our side of the road. Now explanation is needed here – it is true that there are signs that say no parking, but this is a small lazy residential area and by truck I don’t mean lorry just big 4-wheel drive Chelsea Tractor. So the guy goes back down to the house and within 3 mins Tom who lives opposite is out – puts a piece of paper under the wiper and goes down to the house and gives the people there another piece of paper. There is conversation but to far away for my inquisitive ears to pick up – but it all seems quite amicable. Five mins later Tom reappears looks down the road waders around a bit makes a phone call and then retreats up his drive. The truck owner comes down gets in the truck drives up the end of the road turns around and comes back down the other side of the road and parks outside of Toms very own house!

Whoa – like Toms out there asking what he’s doing and telling him that there is no parking there either and pointing out the signs and the other Guy is saying "well you know I’m here helping a church group sort out this house down the road and just leaving the truck" – and Tom says "no parking here" -  and the truck guy calls him "a M…….F…… and Tom says  "sure that's very Christian and the other guy says something else and that he’s being verbally harassed by Tom. I should say that all of this is being said in eerily calm voices – there is a bit of walking up and down and a raised hand but no raised voices – so the truck man phones the police! He says that Tom is harassing him and could they come sort it out. And within three minuets a police man on a motor bike turns up and talks to them both! The truck stays there and Tom is told to be a little more reasonable and that’s it. 

Tom was really ice to me when I found my fly rod had lost its butt by giving me some sealant to stick it back on with. And if you want to know also has a very nice big bike.

I view this in the context of the hassle that just goes on, on Eling Hill when two cars met in the single space to pas outside of the church. There would have to be blood on the road to get the police out and what we normally hear from the garden would be verbal assault here.

Other fun things that may, may not be, particular to Ashland or the US in general is that wine and beer can be bought in the Mall shops but spirits have to be bought in a liquor store and they come in gallon sizes – we are advised that the best place to go is a few miles down the road to Northern California where these huge amounts are common. That the beer of my adolescence Colt 45 American Malt Liquor (bought in a mall despite the name) is viewed as White Lightening is in the UK and drunk by the down and outs. That you are a dog or cat person not both – that beef is cheaper that Chicken which is cheaper than pork but lamb is the most expensive meat here. And that if you search long enough you can find goats milk cheese butter yoghurt but not goats. And don’t offer to make Mexican food for your host who was brought up in Mexico – call it English Mexican, but all types of English/Bengali/ Indian are really appreciated.

So life goes on a pace here and as it does should anything else be thought o bring the lens of British enquiry to its attention it will be dully noted and recorded.

There is perhaps one other peculiarity that I would mention, and it is with regard to the saying of the Lords Prayer during the worship here – we are asked to be forgiven our tress – passes not sins of trespasses – but tress – passes – I think tat Gladys would turn in her grave.

 

 

W Bison