Before moving to the USA in 1965 I lived in a flat 5.7 miles from Trafalgar Square in the centre of London. You could fairly say I was Londoner. I knew none of my neighbours and they didn't know me. Had I died, my body would have mouldered for days, weeks possibly.
It sounds like deprivation but Londoners wouldn't have it any other way. You live in London you look after yourself. On the underground you read to discourage casual conversation. You hurry for the same reason. Deluded or not, you see yourself as part of an elite.
In Pennsylvania my neighbours cared. My friends at work cared even more. A holiday loomed. My best friend said his parents always spent this holiday with a family who had a beach cabin on Misquamicut Beach, Rhode Island (see pic); why didn't I join them? A round trip of several hundred miles.
I hunted for clams, called quahogging. A relaxing hunt where movement is almost imperceptible. One wriggles one's toes in soft wet sand until they detect something hard. It's a clam; drop it in the bucket. Do that again one-hundred-and-forty-nine times.
Back at the cabin, men opened the clams, dabbed ketchup and laid them out on trays the size of car bonnets (US: hoods). Elsewhere several stones of meat (US: a British stone is 14 lb) were being barbecued. One served oneself beer, comforted in the knowledge that it would never run out. Later, on the beach, we tossed a football (a smaller version of a rugby ball) and discussed the Celtics.
Look, I know hospitality occurs in the UK but it’s more formal. The cabin-owning family at Misquamicut had never seen me before. All they needed was my abbreviated first name (“Hi, Rod.”) and confirmation I was at my ease. Ahhh.
I am enjoying these comparison sketches. WALKING in most parts of our country I have encountered similar friendliness and hospitality especially on my walk round the whole of the Welsh boundary.
ReplyDeleteI was confused with your writing here and had to re-read this piece because of the question "Why didn't I join them?" which I interpreted as self examination. As I read on I found you had joined them and was puzzled and went back to unravel the enigma.
Sir Hugh: It may have to do with the speed at which you read - ever on the lookout for themes, messages and counterpoints which may not exist. Anyway, it's one of those occasions where a semi-colon is preferable to a full stop and this I have done. I can't believe you were puzzled for long
ReplyDeleteIn this series of posts I have, for the first time, used "cared" and "friendliness" because there's an important distinction here. What Brits are usually good at is politeness which can extend to a civilised chat; funnily enough Americans are frequently bad at this and often neglect even to say thank-you. Where the Americans score is their willingness to perform gracious acts which require a good deal of effort or risk: lend you their car or drive miles off their route to give you a lift. When I mentioned to a neighbour (an attorney) I would be flying home for Mum's funeral he offered to lend me money for the flight. When I added there might be problems getting approval for leaving the country from the Tax Department he told me to ring him and he would have words with our local congressman.
Yes, that is what I meant about Wales in particular. B and B hosts spending lots of time on the phone trying to find and book me accommodation for the next night. Driving me to an eating place for evening meal and then coming to pick me up. A farmer I spoke to who recommended a friend with who had a small camp site. When I got there I found he had phoned this friend and they were expecting me. There were many more such happenings not to mention the number of cups of tea I was offered and cakes and things brought from adjacent caravaners where I was in my little tent.
ReplyDeleteIf I had been writing that piece I would have quoted: "Why don't you join us?" Nothing else such as "so I did."
Sir Hugh: It's a question of matching up the past tenses in two adjacent sentences. Of course I could have put it in quotes, but in certain circumstances quotes slow down the flow. Note how I used a format which did away with quotes in the post about the phone calls. "So I did" is unnecessary and lumbering providing the reader reads the following sentence. I aim for a certain style which is often the product of cutting down the initial draft when it exceeds 300 words.
DeleteI used to have a copy of the manual which told wartime U.S. G.Is how to behave in Britain. Rule number one was do not attempt to start a conversation with a local on the tube or a bus.
ReplyDeleteTom. But did it say why?
DeleteThe explanation was that the British Isles were very small compared to the wide open spaces, and we needed our privacy. That was the excuse, anyway.
DeleteI am enjoying reading your stories of your time in America. They make me wonder what it might have been like if my family and I had met you at Asbury Park, New Jersey where we went for our summer vacations. We stayed at a small old hotel by the beach. It was the era of The Beatles, and had we heard you speak we would have come over to ask a million questions, and then invite you to please join us for a picnic lunch on the beach.
ReplyDeleterobin andrea: When I lived in Philadelphia (which I didn't enjoy) I visited Ocean City once or twice. As to hearing me speak we might never have got as far as the Beatles. I have a northern accent which many find uncongenial and others say sounds stupid. Especially those resident in south-east England.
DeleteHmmm, quahogs, num. Occasionally we would get fresh ones in our family's fish market. My Dad would pop them open, toss in salt water to clean, and then in dry batter. Toss them in the deep fryers and serve with hot sauce. This was usually after the doors closed on Friday night, and the twinkle in his eye, is what I remember, and of course the deliciousness.
ReplyDeleteSounds almost like Ireland, only there someone would eventually find a six degrees of separation way to explain why you've been are part of the family all alaong.
ReplyDeleteI think the mathematics (I am no mathematician) of six degrees of separation is akin to the spread of the bBig C once the R number goes over 1.
DeleteSabine: I glanced at this comment tangentially. elliptically, casually - take your pick. Wondered why you were dragging robots into a perfectly straightforward post. Part of the specification for a robot (typically the sort that spot-welds car bodies on an assembly line) is expressed in degrees of freedom, thus, in effect, its agility. It was my wife who corrected me. You are partially right with this allusion; Rhode Island and, even more so, Massachusetts have high levels of Irish ancestry. But there the likeness ends, especially when it comes to hygiene.
DeleteMany years ago we were looking for a bar in the environs of Kinsale. An easy task, you say. It turned out to be located in the front room of an elderly widow whose marbles may have been loosely stored. I asked for Guinness and was mildly horrified by what ensued. The unwanted foam in the glass was scraped away with the open end of an old plastic yoghurt pot. A very old pot, the rim being encrusted with dried-on dark brown foam dating back months, possibly seasons. Just one round was enough.
Sir Hugh: Big C is cancer which, as far as I know, is not rated as infectious. Again as far as I know, R is calculated according to a simple arithmetical progression. No need for you to be mathematician; Mrs Thorpe of Thackley Primary provided you with the necessary skills.
DeleteSandi: Which doors? Of bars? The raw clams went well with beer is all I can say.
ReplyDeleteMy father, a brash and friendly machinist from South Bend, Indiana, would have adopted you as a family friend simply based on your foreign accent. He was forever bringing home people from other countries he met at work, or in a bar. In fact, he would have taken you to the neighborhood bar to show you off, and then he would drink with you into the night until he learned all he could from you. Afterwards, he would have driven you home on the back of his motorcycle. I usually dislike thinking of the old man, but this reminds me that he wasn't all bad.
ReplyDeleteColette: Longer than that. I'd have been squeezing him for info too, especially about being a machinist. Right from the start I was constantly being shown off. I'd just booked a bus ticket for Pittsburgh at the Port Authority building in New York and I had time to kill. The transatlantic flight (by propeller plane) had taken ages and I'd needed a shave. But shaving was forbidden in the PA loo. I got a barber to do the job for me (with a cut-throat razor) and when he was done he introduced me to the world at large. "This guy's been in the States for just a coupla hours." People waved.
ReplyDeleteHah, I like to think of you digging for quahogs, your pants rolled up... Never knew what they were till I went to school in Providence, where there were young mafia guys and quahogs at a local bar.
ReplyDeleteArrived back from Carolina under a ginormous All Hallows blue moon (except in keeping with the season, it was orange and later inner-rutabaga color. And then, of course, it snowed on All Saints night.
Marly: Not digging, that wouldn't be quahogging. Searching them out with one's toes, as if one were an evolutionary throwback of the genus redshank.
DeleteDidn't have to roll up my trousers, in those days I wore shorts. Now, support hose (ie, elasticated stockings) denies me this type of sartorial freedom.
What were you doing in a bar in Providence when you were still of school age? I'd like a little more about your relationship with young Mafia guys. Of course, they'd all be very religious.