Notes For The Sauce

Jimi’s Party House in London

Last Saturday marked the 40th anniversary of Jimi Hendrix’s untimely death, but I’m sure all of you knew that already.  The man was a genius (and a party animal, though-and-through as he was at the forefront of recreational LSD use…crazy dude).  It just so happens that the house where he lived in London is one that I pass by on my walk to and fro work every day. 

London posts these signs outside of houses and buildings all over the city proclaiming the significance of the building with the names and dates of those who lived, worked, and died there.  Great for nostalgia purposes to see Lawrence of Arabia’s pad, George Orwell’s digs, Dylan Thomas’s town home, or Jimi Hendix’s flop house.  And who was Jimi’s neighbor (though not at the same time period, obviously)?  Frierich Handel.  Another musical genius.

Anyways, Jimi could rip a guitar and I think it’s pretty dope that he could have rolled out of that house with his guitar in hand and walked the same streets I take to catch my bus every day.

F’ing With The British

So living in London, I get to participate in one of the most hilarious activities in the city: simply being American.  The same way some Americans think that everyone over here speaks like Sherlock Holmes or has gangly-ass teeth, some Brits think Americans all have Southern accents (Texas to be exact) and carry loaded handguns.  So, what do you do when you have two competing stereotypes in one city?  You play into them like you stepped right out of a Dallas suburb trailer park.  Here’s a list of fun comments to make while interacting with our friendly neighbors:

Putting on your BEST and TWANGIEST Texas accent…

• Walk up to some locals, look them dead in the eye, and ask, “Excuse me, but what Subway stop is the dag-gone Eifel Tower at?”  They’ll squint their eyes in disgust.
• In a conversation bring up the fact that you own, not only A gun, but an entire ROOM of guns.  Semi-Autos, Glock 9mms, and even a hand grenade or 2.  When they ask why, simply tell them because “it’s our God-given right as Americans, obviously!  Haven’t you ever heard of the Constitution?”
  
• Tell them that “soccer” is a retarded game, and nowhere near as “awesome” as “real American football,” and that you don’t see why the World Cup is such a big deal.
• Ask any British person, “Does it really rain as often as they say it does?”  Then follow with, “That must be so depressing for you.”
• Ask them to say “Cheerio.”  They hate it.
• Simply be louder than anyone else in the pub about the most mundane things.  I don’t do this on purpose, and this even bugs me about some Americans, but if you get a couple on vacation from Wisconsin drinking beers in a pub, they’re going to be louder than a train wreck.
• Tell them you voted for Bush even though he wasn’t on the ballot in 2008.  Then say that Barack Obama’s presidency is a conspiracy from the Left Wing rebels.  They will walk away from you in 3 seconds.
• Mention anything about taxes on tea or the Revolutionary War and watch shit get hairy.  I would stay away from WWII, though, just out of pure respect.
• Go on and on about how much nicer Paris is than London, simply because of the food and how friendly the people are.
  
• Tell them that London reminds you of New York, but more European.
• Ask them if it’s true that Harry Potter was based on a true story.  And if yes, where can you find where he grew up.

There are many, many, many more comments that can get a good rise out of people over here, but some are best left for the TRUE American dumbasses that come over on “holiday.”  Every culture has their sterotypes about the other.  Sometimes you have to fuck with that fact.

Starting From The Middle

I’m 31 and I’ve been a detached American living in London for well over a year now.  During that time I’ve had the opportunity to travel to a lot of places most Americans haven’t gone and probably won’t (London being one of them).  Shit, most Americans don’t have a damn passport, let alone an opportunity or a reason to leave.  I have a passport, I was given an opportunity, and the utter fear of a life with no stories to tell was my reason to leave.  This isn’t to say that I’m the most daring of travelers. Nor am I the most open of people.  And I’m not looking to change the world or any of that self promoting bullshit.  I’m just looking to experience this crazy place as is, make it seem real to me, and maybe have it change me for the better (that was terrible).

I work for an internet marketing company and I’ve discovered through years on the job that this is a world of bullet points.  They’re clear, concise, and they get the point across even when there is no point to be made.  People pay attention to bullet points.  And so they should.  Because bullet points let you learn and get on with your life.

• So, from now on we’ll stick to the bullet points and get on with our lives

We’ll start with some recent notes in the next few days.  Not all of it will be nice, but it will be as true as I can tell from my America loving point of view.

• Get
• Going