Tuesday, 22 April 2008

Americans in New Zealand

A collage by my son Sam


It's a local legend. American tourists are famous for it and I have heard it from two different people who have met Americans here in New Zealand and they pretend to be Canadians.

Dear me! That's kinda beating around the bush I reckon, obscuring one's origins like that.

Last Saturday night I went to Chambers restaurant. I was invited to a private party there in honour of Leah's birthday.
A pyjama party.
It's getting on into Autumn and the nights can be a little chilly when there isn't a warm Northerly blowing and I said to Leah "well actually I only wear..."and she interrupted me with "I don't want to know what everyone wears to bed..." and I thought ooh how assertive, do I detect a glimpse of anger and passion ? mmm how exciting but of course being the polite people pleaser that I am what I said was "when I was a kid I had a check dressing gown with a multi coloured tassled cord to tie it and flannel pyjamas and tartan slippers and my Dad had the same and on Sunday mornings at 7 I would sit on his knee in the lounge and listen to the children's requests on the radio..." and Leah said "yes that's the kind of thing, get into the spirit of it"

So I did get into the spirit and some beer too and a jolly good time was had by all and I met some interesting people there including Anne and Andrew who had opened a cafe in Waihi recently and Andrew said that they had some Americans in their cafe for dinner one evening and when he asked them where they were from one gentleman said very fast, all in one word and in obviously practiced fashion, "we're from Texas and we hate Bush"
O.K. buddy, too much information but I see where you're coming from.

Actually I was cynically grateful to Mr. Bush for ensuring supplies of fuel for my vehicles even if I gotta pay extra for it (wars cost money and we all gotta stump up and pay the cost of whatever the American public decides is best for the whole world) but I lost my drivers licence and walk and ride a bike now so I don't give a damn--
--except when I remember the wonderful Iranian and Iraqi movies and art I have seen and the literature, novels and short stories I have read from those countries and then I get a little annoyed.

But what would you? 'Tis the way of the world and America has great movies art and literature too.
don't they?

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