LAND OF HOPE AND GLORY

THE REAL AMERICA?

Land of Hope and Glory was part of Edward Elgar’s Pomp and Circumstance with stirring lyrics by A.C. Benson, a distinguished academic and author. Although it was conceived as a quintessentially British piece (and how I wish it would replace the dirge of Britain’s national anthem) it is also often used at the graduation ceremonies of American universities. But I’ve chosen this title because for me, Hope and Glory typifies the United States.

First, a digression. When I went to school many classrooms still had maps of the world with much of it coloured pink. Some labelled the pink parts, the British Commonwealth, others defiantly anachronistic, the British Empire. This helps describe the land I was born and brought up in. We kids believed that England - rarely did we call it Britain - was the best country in the world. As time went on we learnt that it wasn’t, by any means. That has engendered a curious split in our psyche. Our head knows we are no longer one of the great powers of the world but our heart secretly whispers that we should be.

One of my friends says that when you ask a British person how they are doing, they often answer, ‘Mustn’t grumble.’ Or the reply may be the more miserable, nihilistic, ‘Could be better’ or even the positively joyous ‘Can’t complain.’

I’m going to examine ‘mustn’t grumble’ for a moment. I’m not sure it it’s stoic, passive-aggressive, pragmatic or a combination of all of these but it seems to say something about we Brits. You’ll note that there’s no personal pronoun. It’s not ‘I mustn’t grumble, you mustn’t or we mustn’t.’ It’s devoid of all such ownership or responsibility.

Then, there’s the word ‘grumble.’ It’s not as powerful as complain or moan, more a half-hearted, almost inaudible mutter of discontent. And who is responsible for saying: ‘must not?’ Is it the person speaking or the mores of the society? Or is it a half-forgotten result of centuries when the English were ruled by the Norman aristocracy who didn’t speak the language but controlled their lives?

Contrast this response with one I heard when I was doing a course at the University of California, Santa Cruz. In the canteen I usually found myself at one particular cash desk. The cashier would always greet people enthusiastically, even though it was not the best paying or exciting job in the world. Once I asked him how he was - perhaps assuming he might say, ‘Mustn’t grumble.’ However, he answered, ‘I’m good.’ Then he cocked his head a little and pondered before adding, ‘No actually, I’m fabulous.’ I’d met a real philosopher and mentor.

So this is why I call America Land of Hope and Glory.

I’d originally thought to write about what I liked and didn’t like about America but realise that this is almost impossible. Most things I liked and disliked simultaneously. Take a typical casual meeting between an American and me.

Me: Morning. (note how I avoid saying whether the morning is good, bad or indifferent.)

American – Hi sir, how you doing today?

Their greeting was full of enthusiasm, warmth and good cheer. But did they really mean it? How would they respond if I replied, ‘Mustn’t grumble’ and then regaled them with how I was actually doing? I suspect they would have listened politely until I had finished and then beat a hasty retreat. But, and this is the important point, it’s a far more pleasant greeting than my nondescript, ‘Morning.’

When I was in Sarasota we were invited to dinner by Mark’s friend, Philip S. Mygatt. (You can check the link at the end to see his books.) He said to me, ‘You’ve been to New York, California and now Florida, but I wonder if you’ve been to the real America.’  I said, ‘I wonder what the real America is?’ and of course, there’s probably no such place.

Is Kansas, Colorado, Idaho or Texas more the real America than the places I had been? I suspect that nowhere is the real America, the real Britain, the real France or Rwanda. I’d only grazed the surface of the coastal part of the USA, never dipping my toe into middle America, sometimes referred to as the flyover states. Where and what is the real, or unreal, America?

So, here are my reactions to America and Americans. I was only there for a month so be warned, what follows is a mix of snap judgements, generalisations and plain old stereotypes. But I leave it to you to decide whether I liked or disliked what I describe. And if you know, please tell me in the comments, as I’m not entirely sure.

I often wish I’d left Britain when I was in my twenties and emigrated to Australia, New Zealand or America. Now, I regret it even more. But mustn’t grumble.

PEOPLE

I loved the Americans with their can-do attitude, their friendliness and their engaging innocence. In Key West I came across two men wearing yellow, high visibility jackets and carrying rifles over their shoulders. It was scary. I assumed they were police but not a bit of it; they worked for a removal firm. What possessions could be so prized they warranted guarding with military weapons? A dining table, a set of kitchen pans, a goldfish in a bowl? Yet they beamed at me and said, ‘Hi, how you doing?’ I replied, ‘Fine’ but the sight of the weapons unnerved me. I had a similar experience at the airport. A cheery announcer said, ‘A polite reminder that Federal Law forbids you to take firearms into the airplane cabin so please check them in with your hold luggage.’ WHAT? Thank goodness I didn’t bring my bazooka to the airport.

Nothing was too much trouble for the Americans I met. They would give me lengthy instructions if I got lost, tell me how to negotiate the regulations which baffled me, patiently explained meals I had never seen before, explain the differences between an over-easy egg, an over-hard and a sunny-side up, and always with a cheerful, go get ‘em enthusiasm. I once took a taxi and got on so well with the driver, Herb, that I felt we were long-lost friends.

TRANSPORTATION

I was disappointed to see railway lines but then told that no passenger trains ran on them. Once upon a time, a passenger line ran all the way down to Key West. It’s a real shame.

Trains have been usurped by cars and every one of them was huge, I mean really huge. And the price of petrol was astonishing. In Florida, it was about $3.00 a gallon whereas in Europe a gallon would cost 9 euros, the equivalent of $10.00. Perhaps the Government could reduce the deficit if they taxed petrol the same as the rest of the world.

American airports, however, could certainly teach Europe a thing or eight. They are so easy to navigate and customer friendly. I almost enjoyed flying.

And I enjoyed seeing the school buses which looked like the one Forrest Gump travelled to school in.

FOOD

I was astonished at the size of food. The supermarkets were like modern day temples, vast and filled to overflowing. And everything was super-size, no half-measures here. I even saw fruit being sold by the bushel which sounded pretty big to me. (I’ve just checked, it’s more than 30 litres.)

The restaurants served large meals although not as gargantuan as some I saw in central California. And drinks came in huge quantities, vast buckets of every drink and laden with a glacier of ice. If you liked coffee you could have drunk it until it lapped around your toes. It’s a wonder there weren’t public toilet every ten yards. Talking of which, every restroom or bathroom I visited was spotless and dry.

My main gripe with eating places was that if you ordered tea you got a teabag and about a gallon of hot water, so much it would have produced only the faintest stain and taste of tea. They had root beer however, which was good.

The other thing which surprised me was that almost all the restaurants looked nowhere near as grand as their European cousins. The best-appointed ones looked like bars, but most were more homespun, some almost like shacks. It didn’t affect the quality of the food, however, which in the main was very good.

I fell for America in a big way. It was big, bold and brash, with endless space and endless optimism. People demanded the best and usually got it. Although I was a bit concerned to see somewhere offer a hip replacement in day surgery. Hop in, dance out.

So, I’ll be back. Land of Hope and Glory suits it pretty well.

Link to Phil Mygatt’s books: https://www.amazon.com/s?i=digital-text&rh=p_27%3APhilip+Mygatt&s=relevancerank&text=Philip+Mygatt&ref=dp_byline_sr_ebooks_1