Wednesday, 4 July 2007

Happy 4th. Keep on dancing!!

My cable is still broken, so when at home I’m still doing a LOT of dancing around my bedroom. Today I am mostly grooving to the fabulous Feist. Please enjoy a personal favourite, ‘My Moon My Man’, with my compliments.

Fortunately someone is coming to fix the cable tomorrow thank God. It’s been a week. I once lived without TV for a year; I’m not quite sure how I coped. At least I’m not missing much with it being summer. American TV is seasonal you see, series – or shows – for the most part start in the autumn and finish in spring. During the summer it’s mostly reality shows and repeats, but unlike British TV, which is terribly sorry and generally a bit embarrassed and ashamed by repeats, US TV practically boasts about them and touts them as “another chance to see.” Do you see what they did there? It fools no-one of course, everyone still complains, but you have to admire them for their cheek.

No work today, it’s the Fourth of July, Independence Day, a national holiday in the US commemorating the anniversary of US Independence from Great Britain. These days America celebrates the birth of their nation with barbeques, picnics and, in New York, a hot dog eating contest sponsored by Nathan’s of Coney Island – how many hotdogs can YOU eat in 12minutes? Joey Chestnut can eat 66!!! He ate all the pies!! And fireworks, but no ordinary fireworks, this is the Macy’s Fourth of July firework spectacular no less. Admittedly they are spectacular, I once watched them from the roof of a building in DUMBO – that’s Brooklyn kids, Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass – and they were VERY impressive, although not so impressive that I could ever be arsed to battle the crowds of tourists to see them from Manhattan.

It’s been a good day so far. No-one I’ve spoken to on my travels – to Starbucks, the gym and to MoMA to see the Richard Serra and Picasso exhibits - has asked me, on finding out I’m British, how I’m feeling about today, this being the anniversary of them chucking us out and all.

I’m not kidding; every year at least one person has asked me this question. It’s always men that ask, never women. If the men that ask are accompanied by women the females roll their eyes and look at me sympathetically as if to say “I’m so sorry about stupid here, please just humor him.”

Seriously, do I LOOK like I am over 231years old? The declaration was signed in 1776 for God’s sake, 195years before I was born. Why on earth would I care? Give me a day off work and I’ll celebrate anything.

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