When I Got Choked Up

Okay, I've been on hiatus, but it's Royal Wedding Day and I had to say something. Of course what else can be said when the anchors on the news channels had to vamp for vast amounts of time. You know what was missing? Any proper descriptions at all of the "flyover" -- they call it a "fly-past" over there.

They're going on about the dress, and the kiss and f-all when the three WWII era airplanes were flying over their heads making a rousing racket. Come on, people.

The planes were a Spitfire, a Hurricane and a Lancaster in a memorial to the Battle of Britain. Now that was thrilling. They were followed by some modern planes (yawn), but those three heroes ...What a thrill. What those actual planes and ones like them did to save the world.

Well, that's the British monarchy for you. It's actually a great way to get into the history, but most people couldn't tell you about Oliver Cromwell, etc., -- but they could name Kate's designer.

Bravo to the RAF, Her Majesty's Air Force. Here's a YouTube clip I found of the same three planes at another event -- you can see them a little better than what CNN, et al. captured ...

From Bonnet to Boot

Above you will see yours truly only a couple of decades ago pretending to get into the proper side of a Morris Minor, with the National Theatre in the background.

I post this now because I would like to acknowledge, in a year of dreadful anniversaries (I'm thinking, of course, mostly of the anniversary of John Lennon's murder and the melancholy 70th anniversary of his birth) ... in this year of difficult anniversaries, a happy one.

Forty years ago, the Morris company made their one millionth Minor. It was the first British motor company to make a million cars. They stopped production in the early 70s, which I guess makes this anniversary a tad melancholy as well. But for now, let us sing its glories. As they say, from bonnet to boot, there was nothing more British than a Morris Minor. Not flashy, somewhat dependable, made lots of noise, but got the job done -- with more soul than you'd expect at first blush.

I actually contemplated buying one about 16 or 17 years ago. My friend had found one for sale in Connecticut. Although the steering wheel had been changed for export, it was a Minor through and through. My father (may his memory be for a blessing) begged me not to get it. "Ronnie," he said, "The engine is the size of battery."

I didn't get it, as I'm not the best with a spanner and I couldn't trust it to do the hefty commute at the time. Ah, but what might have been ... Maybe it's not too late ...

Christmas Number One

If you're reading this blog, this probably at least sounds familiar: the Christmas Number One.

It's the top single in the UK for the week before Christmas. They've been naming it since the 50s.

Yes, this is a thing. In fact, it's a major part of the plot of Love, Actually. You know, Bill Nighy plays and aging rocker who re-records his hit, "Love is All Around" as "Christmas is All Around" in the effort of getting the Christmas Number One. Fact is, that is the kind of fare you can expect for the Number One.

The list of winners is a strange, strange list. It can be Christmas song, but certainly doesn't have to be. Everyone from Al Martino to the Beatles have been on it. Of course, the Fab Four have been on it more than anyone (three years in a row during the mid-60s). For the last several years, it's been mostly X-Factor winners. Sometimes the song is a comment on a previous Number One: I think "Do They Know It's Christmas?" has won two or three times. Sometimes, there are exciting letter-writing campaigns (now Facebook campaigns) ... last year, fans made sure Rage Against the Machine won for "Killing in the Name," even though that song is nearly a decade old.

This year, the honor goes to Matt Cardle, a Factor alum, with "When We Collide." That song is taken from "Many a Horror" by Biffy Clyro.

You know, the UK really is another country (as evidenced by almost everything in that last paragraph), even though they import all kinds of stuff from here. The amazing thing is that Brits have these little things that bond them. Apparently, people around the country used to arrange their Christmas dinners around the Top of the Pops special that highlighted the Number One, which in turn, aired right before the Queen's Christmas message.

That the kind of thing that unites a people. I can't think of anything like that in America. The Super Bowl? Sport doesn't count. Elections? I really can't think of anything.

Now I just have to find somewhere to download Matt Cardle's song. Believe it or not, iTunes only had the karaoke version.

Smeg Me!!

"This is too weird for words."

For the heck of it, I checked Netflix for Red Dwarf. It turns out that not only did they have it, but there was a whole series (read "season") that I didn't even know about! And it's in Haitch Dee!

For the uninitiated, Red Dwarf was -- is! -- a BBC science fiction/comedy series. The premise is this guy wakes up on a spaceship to find that the rest of the human race became extinct millions of years ago. He befriends an ancestor of his cat, who has evolved to become somewhat humanoid, although vain; an hologram of his best friend, who is irrationally arrogant; and sycophantic android. Oh, there's also a surly computer interface. It's actually very clever.

The new shows were produced in 2009 after a 10-year hiatus. Although there are just three episodes, Red Dwarf: Back to Earth is collectively considered Series 10. I'm sorry there were so few episodes, but it's good to see that the lads are back. I have read that they are making more in 2011. Who knows what (if any) channel they will play on in the U.S., but at least there's hope.

The Big Society

The Torries' Big Society scheme has been all over the news. I wasn't sure what to make of it at first.

Sure, it seems like in any society, it would make sense that everyone pitch in during hard times. Pensioners are told to do more with less, they are re-examining the benefits for the handicapped ... There has even been talk of taking away the bus passes that are given to the elderly so they can visit the high-street shops each day.

Fair enough, I guess. Time to tighten the belt.

Bad time for the royals to be planning a royal wedding, however. I've never really had a strong opinion about the current monarchs. But the timing of this leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Sure, I've heard all the arguments that the tens of millions of pounds that Prince William Wales and Kate Middelton's wedding will cost the British taxpayer will be more than returned in the form of tourism dollars. My answer? "Okay, but still ..."

Believe me, I wish the couple all health and happiness. And I'm not calling for the abolition of the monarchy. But come on. Financing a lavish wedding with the same money that's meant to pay for Aunt Penelope's bus pass? My message to the Windsors: "Sell something." They should pay for the whole thing, including security, themselves.

Bloody Fantastic

I love folks who claim to be able to "do a British accent." Generally, they either adopt a posh accent or a lame cockney one. Some bust out a Ringo Starr circa 1963. As my linguistics professor pointed out to me so long ago, years ago, Londoners could peg what block in one lived on by the way one pronounced certain words. There are dozens of accents in the UK. And this kids pretty much nails them. In this little YouTube piece, he takes on 24 accents, about half of which are from the isles -- from different English ones (ranked by class, etc.) to Welch to Scottish.

I also recommend reading the comments about this on HuffPo. Very interesting theory put forward, claiming that it is exactly because Brits are exposed to so many accents, nearly from birth, that they are so good at imitations. I like the idea, but I'm not sure about it. Yes, they have Tilda Swinton, but the US have Meryl Streep, and nearly every Aussie actor I can think of can do a passable American. But the proportions do seem to be out of whack ... it seems like per capita, the UK wins the prize in this department. How many times have you heard an actor speaking in his or her own voice and said, "I had no idea they were British!"

I've written before about the mirror effect of Anglophilia -- Brits who are obsessed with America. In just the last couple days, the media came out with two fascinating interviews touching on this. On NPR, Robert Plant spoke about his love of the American south, which he continues to explore. Like Jagger and so many others, they knew they owed everything to the geniuses in Memphis, the Delta, etc. and payed homage when they could. The fascinating part is that my generation heard their take, assumed they invented it and became obsessed with life in Manchester, Leeds, etc. And thought rock and roll had to be sung with an British accent. In thgis weekend's Times Mag, Deborah Solomon interviewed Phil Collins, who turns out to be Motown fanatic and a collector of objects from the American frontier, including stuff from the Alamo and Davy Crockett. Funny world.

Photo of Robert Plant from Ella Mullins

Screw the Phone Hacking Thing

For weeks, I've been trying to compose a post about the phone hacking scandal, but I couldn't figure out a way to make it interesting. Yawn -- it has something to do with accessing people's voicemail and covering it up and then stopping and restarting and investigation about said offence. Yawn.

Then I saw this one Facebook. It depicts my friend, Billy Cometti, meeting Chuckie himself!!!!!!!!

Wow, Billy, wow. You've come a long way from the Cameron Diaz Biography we did together, my friend.

Russell Brand in the Chokie

I was alerted to the tragic news after the Jewish holiday by a tweet from Wossie: "Good morning everyone. I am currently baking a cake with a file and hack saw in it for my dear friend Russell."

Seems the comic bad boy was involved with some typical celebrity bad-boy antics. While attempting to approach the terminal at LAX, he and domestic partner Katie Perry were completely surrounded and harrased by paparazzi (notice I didn't use the double plural ... that drive me crazy). I guess the yoga master suffered one humiliation too much -- according to Perry, the photog tried to shoot up her skirt. Well, I don't have to describe it to you. Here is it. These are paparazzi after all, so it was bound to get caught recorded for all to see.

Ill Papa!

As everyone knows, the Catholic Church and the Church of England have been at odds for -- well, since King Henry VIII.

Thirty years ago JPII visited the the UK in a grand gesture of reconciliation, even as the Troubles continued in Ireland, and other disagreements brewed. Now, even with the RCs turning to the right and the Anglicans turning to the left, who knew that Rome's biggest bone to pick would not be with the Archbishop of Canterbury, but with the British people themselves!

The row escalated when one of the former German cardinal's top aides, another German cardinal (I point this out because it's not like the Germans and the Brits have had an easy time of it over the last 100 years or so) responded positively when asked if Christians were discriminated against in the country his boss was about to visit. He railed against the UK's "aggressive secularism," calling it [gasp] a "third-world country." Ouch. And quite pot-calling-the kettle. I mean, which one is more of a dictatorship?

Cardinal Kasper's comment comes as a letter signed by 50 top Britons -- people like Dawkins, Fry, and others -- hit the news. It says that the Pope is leader of a religion, not a head of state and is therefore not entitled to the "honour" of a state visit.

So, again: Interesting times -- the churches are playing nice but the people are snipping. Progress? I'm not sure but according to Guardian, the pontiff was barely off the plane when he started with the anti-secularism talk.