In Perspective

Now that I have been back in LA for a few days and have had time to reflect on my trip - I mean vacation - back to the UK; did this new pseudo-American me see things a different light?  Do I have a new perspective on the "old country"? Did I find it claustrophobic on those tiny little roads?  How did I cope with a stick-shift? How did pub-grub scrub up against all this fast food and speedy service I have become accustomed to? How did it feel to be a Tourist?

Well I did spend an afternoon walking around the village with my camera in my bag.  Look at the river, that’s so pretty SNAP. That windmill is totally awesome SNAP. The church, that’s so……old  SNAP.  

I  did desire a bit of retail therapy and rather than going  into Southampton with it's a big modern convenient shopping mall I decided to go to historic Winchester instead; quaint old attractive buildings; tiny little shops; cobbled streets.
 
Despite myself I was avidly glued to the TV on Friday morning – watching Kate and Wills take their vows.  I positively reveled in all that flag waving and thought why don’t we do this more often? Why don’t we fly the Union Jack in our front gardens like all those Americans with their Stars and Stripes.

Yes I did see things in a new perspective. As we flew back to the US covering the entire length of  Britain in less than an hour and a half, I realized how small and compact the UK really is. A little island patchwork of green and I think I’m beginning to understand why Americans always assume we all know each other – that old “I’ve got cousins in Liverpool” thing. You can drive from one end of the country to the other half a day and whilst a Royal Wedding is a once every 20-30 years or so event, it did bring the whole country to a standstill. We do all know each other – not on first name terms of course – but because we share the same the same history and the same heritage.  We’re all on the same time zone so we do all watch the same TV channels at the same time, read the same newspapers, receive the same weather forecast, live by the same laws.  That just doesn’t happen in America.  It’s too big, too young, and too culturally diverse. 

From happy tourist in the "old country" it's back to school run mom in the "big", and I do think of the US as "home" because this is where I do all that normal routine stuff – the housework; the shopping; ensuring the PE kit is washed and ready; the shirts ironed.  The surreal has become the real. I've acclimitized; resigned myself and despite a shaky start I think I've done my best to integrate.

But do I really want to  fit in?

As we arrive back in LA we watch the evening news and there's that good ol’ Stars and Stripes being  triumphantly paraded up and down in Times Square and along Hollywood Boulevard in celebrations of an entirely different kind.  Personally I think there are times when a bit of sobriety is called for and with these images being beamed around a watching world,  that American "patriotism" doesn't seem quite so wonderful after all.

And then I make my first school run of the week and within a space of 15 minutes I have to take evasive action twice to avoid being hit by other cars, both of whose drivers appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact that there might actually be another vehicle on the road. Welcome “home” with a bang.

I can feel my blood pressure rising and my shoulders tense.

And that’s when I know my bubble hasn’t burst.  Yes pub grub was lovely; yes I coped with a stick shift.  Yes I loved driving around on quiet country lanes only one car wide and no, I didn't hit anything.  Home might well be in Pasadena but my heart is quite definitely lodging somewhere else.  I’m going to creep quietly back into my cocoon, watch the new series of Dr Who, munch on a bar of Cadbury’s Dairy Milk and crack open that bottle of Pimms.

It's time to face the truth. I have tried, but me and America –  we have compatibility issues.