For Queen and Country

It's called Veterans Day here. It's Remembrance Day in the United Kingdom and many parts of the Commonwealth.

Harry Patch died in July at age 111. He was Britain's last World War One Veteran. So 2009 is the first year he will not be marching in the parade. We won't have that continuity. Within many of our lifetimes, the same will be true of World War Two vets.

What would Harry think of Gordon Brown's latest dustup?

For those who haven't been following, a grieving mum of a soldier killed in Afghanistan and he have been at loggerheads.

It seems that Brown writes handwritten condolence notes to the families of the fallen. When the mother of Jamie Janes, Jacqui Janes, received hers, she blanched at the 25 spelling errors -- including both her name and her son's. Brown called to apologize, a call Janes recorded and later released in which she suggested to the PM that her sons death could have been prevented if the forces were better supplied and supported.

Now, so many years into that conflict, we wonder what can be done to find "peace in our time." Many people didn't know that the visually impaired politician even wrote these notes (he lost much of his sight in a rugby accident) -- and the spelling errors prove that they are personal.

Meanwhile, mothers continue to grieve.





Photo by Jim Ross

Hammer: Another Uncovered World

As I've said before, one of the great things about being an Anglo-fan is discovering a whole amazing parallel universe -- one that speaks English! I remember Mike Starr, now a well-known TV critic and still a Peter Sellers fanatic telling me about Sellers's early films, including a classic in which he plays a prison inmate. Who knew?

Just last week I heard Madeline Smith and Valerie Leon, queens of the Hammer Films being interviewed on Radio 2. Hammer Studios was the prime B-movie factory in the 50s and 60s. It's a whole world of previously unknown (to me) shlock and the training ground for just greats at Roger Moore.

The movies weren't always top shelf, but the women [insert gesture of a stereotypical Italian chef with his fingers to his lips: "Delicious!"]

I guess I'll have to find some free YouTube and Roku time to mine this new vein.

A Thousand Days Until the London Olympics

Just worth noting.

Britannia Rules the (Air)waves.

Just got around to watching Away We Go. Of course, I thought the soundtrack was some newly discovered Nick Drake sprinkled with some Stranglers. But the original music was actually relative newcomer Alexi Murdoch, born in London, raised largely in Scotland.

Talk about a monoploy. It seems as though the British are still to music what Koreans used to be to grocers and what many people thing Jews are to banking.

Did those feet in ancient times ....

Nice article in the Times on a trailway I never knew about.

Such a surprising island. Last week, Radio 4 did a show about the geological history of Britain. Reminded me of seeing the dinosour fossils in Lyme Regis.

Look, North America is very varied too. But it's so huge. On this mini-continent, there's so much.

What I Wish I Had

Still loving the Chinese scooter, but look at the beauty of the above.

Doctor Ronnie and Mr. Ron

When I posted this shot of my new scooter on Facebook, an old friend wrote, "Quadrophenia nostalgia?"

Well, duh.

Too bad I can't afford a Vespa right now and had to get this Chinese one which is more "motorcycle-y" than those used by the Mods. Still, it's a lot of fun ... when it's working.

"Different to" Americans

I've long been intrigued not only by the different vocab and spellings that they have in England and the Commonwealth, but also the different grammar. They'll say, "NatWest apologize for the inconvenience" as if all the people at the bank were sorry, while we say "Chase apologizes."

One grammatical quirk that really charms me is the when they say, "This is different *to* that" instead of "This is different from that." I really can't make a strong argument about which is more correct. I just love the way do it more.

Oh You, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

Just minutes ago, finished watching a film with Lexi: Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I had literally not seen a frame of it since I was a tiny kid. What I didn't remember is except for Dick Van Dyke, it's an almost 100 percent British enterprise, shot mostly at Pinewood Studios. Unlike Mary Poppins, Dick does not trot out his much-criticized cockney accent.

Very surreal. The 60s were indeed a strange time.

And of all people, who should pop up? Benny Hill.

Lots for an anglophile and nostalgic to sink his teeth into.

Finally ... MARMITE

I've always heard of it, never tasted it.

So when I was breaking the fast from Yom Kippur, and my new friend Charlie from London brought a jar of Marmite for his kids to eat (they can't get enough of the stuff), I jumped at the chance. Brits grow up with this gooey concoction, and it's next to impossible to get here. Most Americans think it's vile, but if you grow up with anything ... most people around the world don't care for our peanut butter, for instance.

What did I think? I liked it. Probably too intense of a taste to break a fast with -- it's a byproduct of beermaking: yeasty and salty, a bit like a spreadable bullion cube. But that's making it sound bad, which it isn't.

Goes great with bagels.