7 of the things I love about Americans

Monday 21st December 2009

Being my first time in US, to see Americans in their native habitat, as it were, it is clear that they are gorgeous:

1. They cheer at the end of good films; they want you to know they enjoyed it
2. In reality they are all hippies at heart: they just like to be friendly.
3. Thet are all full of hope. Half of them hope the world is going to get better; the other half hope it will get worse, just to prove themselves right.
4. You do not have to ask for a glass of tap water in restaurants – they automatically give you one and then come around to top it up, without you asking for it.
5. They are genuinely happy to help you in shops.
6. Fox News. It is so biased it is funny.
7. They don’t care whether I love them or not; it makes not a jot of difference to them. Nor should it.

Coming soon: 7 of the things I hate about Americans

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Santa Monica and Venice, LA

Muscle Beach, Santa Monica

Santa Monica Beach

Santa Monica Beach

Venice canals

Santa Monica Pier

Mad dogs and Golden Girls

Sunday 20th December 2009
I did get a bit lost coming back, around Marina del Rey. But the only danger was of being mugged by the Golden Girls.

The Venice canals area is beautiful, like a picture post card where the water actually moves and the people say hi as you pass by. Every house is different as well. There is less uniformity, perhaps because they are all much newer compared to our housing, and not built by Barratts.

But any negatives? Well this one guy tried to get aggressive with me because I would not listen to his CD which he was hawking. It was jazz he assured me not rap, which would make him the most threatening jazz musician I have come across. You just walk on by.

Also you get used to how a city is laid out, with houses lining every street and road, small shops at convnient distances and not great swathes of empty road. They plan cities differently here.

In the evening I found the main shopping area in Santa Monica. There is street entertainment as you shop and eat: slasa dancers, jazz musicians (of a less aggressive temperament), dogs skateboarding and someone singing the most mournful version of Christmas Carols you have heard (when he moved on to Lionel Richie "Say You, Say Me" I knew it was time to go).

Despite the warmth and general lack of all things winter-wonderland in Lalaland, it is interesting how much of their Christmas decorations centre around snow, reindeer and cheery Father Christmas wrapped up against the the cold.

Health Kick

Sunday 20th December 2009
The first thing I do in a new country is walk: to get a hang of where eaxtly I am, the city and what it is like. So on my first day here, I walked, a lot.

The problem is that LA is not designed for walkng around. It is built to be driven around in your big 4x4 or your small, city nipper.

Also, LA is not one city but lots, and they are all pretty large. So walking from Santa Monica, where my motel is, to Venice Beach and then on to Marina del Rey - and even as far as Playa del Rey is about 11 miles there and back, if you are a crow with a good sense of direction.

Walking along Santa Monica Beach and Venice Beach in the morning, people are out and about skating along with their dogs, exercising on Muscle Beach, shooting hoops on the courts, kicking soccer balls around, cycling with their kids, running, jogging, panting and pushing.

It is impressively healthy and with the sun coming out who blames them: beach volleeyball; a strange game called paddle ball, which looks like ping pong for those who never heard of tennis; fitness and weights groups; skateboarding 40 year olds.

The other thing is that everyone is unreservedly and unashamedly carrying on their conversations loudly. So we can all hear if we want, which of course I do. It is so friendly and open.

Leaving on a big plane

Saturday 19th December 2009
So therefore we decided Al would go on his own and we would make the best of a not-so-good situation. It was all very logical and rational, but when it came down to it is was a lot more emotional.

The Romans had a phrase for it "pis aller" - meaning the least worst alternative; not the best solution but better than other possibilities. The phrase sounds as down in the dumps as it is.

At the airport for me and back at home for Jan, there were tears. There was snot.

It is interesting how airports may be one of the few places you can have a public cry and no one takes a blind bit of notice. Passers-by assume you are upset about leaving a loved one behind. They are right.

Pis aller indeed.