My English Side

As some of you know my heritage is half Irish, half English, a condition that causes me to continually rebel against myself. And - this line is from Rita Rudner - half of me is wild and carefree and the other half is appalled. Rita used the gag to describe her son who is half Brit, half American.

This morning I am fully in tune with my English side. I fell asleep last night reading P.D. James and awoke this morning needing a biscuit and tea. I'm sitting rather more erect as I type this and wondering where the Dickens, Jeeves is. Odd, really, that I am a bit of an anglophile in that the country has little that appeals to me apart from its pubs and golf courses. I would like to visit, for sure, but only on a warm summer day. That cold looking, drizzly rain that seems to be a regular feature of British Isle weather doesn't do a thing for me. "Bracing" they'd say, with stiff upper lips. "Bullshit" I'd say, heading to the pub, but then I do have that Irish side.

It's not the country, it's the people and their - as perceived by me - culture that fascinates me. Bobbies and double decked buses. Bowler hats squarely aligned and umbrellas tucked smartly under arms. Nifty names like Chelsea and Liverpool and The House of Lords. And you've got to love the accents, cockney and upper crust. One's so proudly aggressive, the other's deliciously a snoot. There's "guvnas" and "old socks" and "chums" aplenty. But best of all for me, is the overriding sense of civility. Do let's be polite. "I say Old Boy, sorry about the bullet but Daphne and I were engaged."

Of course I got it all from books and movies and TV, sketchy source materials at best, but I do have, don't you know, my image of the average Brit. He's an amalgam of James Bond, Bertie Wooster, David Niven and all the Monte Python characters. Today I am that guy. So to you I say, Ta Ta, Cheerio, chin up and I want it shaken, not stirred. Wait! That last part might be Irish!