American Tourists

We've all met at least one like this:



Stories about Americans in England:

From a colleague, on the underground (about thirty years ago):

American: 'Oh pardon me, does this train goda lie-cester square.

Colleague: 'I'm afraid not. It does go to Leicester Square, though, if that's of any use to you'.

Amercian: 'O-o-oh'.

---

Personal, on the underground (about twenty five years ago):

American Woman: (to husband) 'George, it's four stops. Four stops George. Ya got that?'

George: (cringing and red faced, three seats away) 'Shure Hun.'

American Woman: (at next stop) 'Not this one George. It's three stops, OK? Three stops. Ya got that George?'

George: (turning purple, cringes again)

American Woman: (and so on at each stop, counting down)

Crowded Rush Hour Carriage: (struggles to contain itself, giving way to fits of giggles and laughter)

---

Personal, in York, in an 'antique' bric-a-brac shop, about fifteen years ago:

American Woman: (to Proprietress, and holding bone china item) Oh pardon me dear, this cup has no handle. Is it broken?

Proprietress: (irritatedly) No DEAR, it is NOT. It's a Georgian tea bowl; it's unusual and quite valuable. Don't break it.

American Woman: 'O-o-o-h.'

---

Personal, in York, in a specialist tableware shop (about fifteen years ago):

American Woman: (to assistant and pointing to a display of Wedgewood blue jasper ware) 'Is this the traditional English?'

--- 

From Mrs Gruff, at breakfast in a Gateshead hotel (about ten years ago):

Waitress: (to group of American 'businessmen') 'Right then, are you ready to order breakfast?'

American Businessman: Uuh, yeah! I'll have bacon, crispy, eggs over easy, maple ... '

Waitress: (brooking no nonsense) 'So that's bacon and eggs then, is it?'

American Businessman: Uuh, yeah, I guess so.'

---

In fairness I should offer, though I would rather not, that I'm aware that the behaviour of our kind when abroad is all too often shameful rather than simply embarrassing, so we really cannot throw stones. However, the sketch is funny.

That's All Right Mama

Peerless.

Because It's Christmas

Just in case you're enjoying the festive season:



It's nice to know that I'm not alone in my dispirited cynicism.

A Gruff Christmas to anyone daft enough to read my rubbish.

Tony Bennett

My most liked Tony Bennett song:



Mr Bennett is 85 and still sings with the passion and vigour of youth.

Department S: Is Vic There?

With apologies to Ros.

Which 'remembers me', as my daughter Emma used to say, of the time the art department of Vole were thrown out of a pub in Sidcup, one lunchtime about thirty years ago. The editor, one Richard North (not the famous blogger, as far as I'm aware) asked the landlord what the problem was and was informed by the latter that he did not like our sort and would not have us in 'his' pub (we were wearing black leather motorcycle jackets). Shortly afterwards, back in the office, he telephoned the brewer's publicity department and introduced himself, as an editor on The Observer news desk, which he was at the time. Naturally he was welcomed, thanked, assured of co-operation and asked how he might be helped. HE explained that the paper was preparing an article on English pubs and asked whether anyone could answer a few questions. Naturally, again, the brewer was only too happy to help and put Mr North through to a suitably qualified spokesman. 'How can I help you', the spokesman asked. 'You can tell me why three friends of mine have just been thrown out of one of your pubs simply because they were wearing leather jackets', he was was told. Eventually, after a prolonged bout of coughing, spluttering, breathless gasps and obvious sounds of near seizure, the suitably qualified spokesman struggled to reassure said editor that ' ... we value ... etc ... and do not ... etc '. The art department laughed at the tale and went on with its work, and never entered the pub again.

Stanier's Streamliner

She isn't as inspiring, threatening, menacing or promising as an A4, nor as uncompromisingly modern as a Bulleid, but she is a thing of great beauty, even if the tender appears too short, on six wheels, and the overhang at the front too great. It is, though, nice to see her pulled by a Brush Type 4 in the most pleasing livery worn by those locomotives.

An A4 at Speed

I like the sound of a supersonic jet fighter swooping overhead as the locomotive passes the microphone.

Les Jaguars: Guitare Jet