England Swings

In 1996, 180 Tennessee high school students, band nerds of all people, descended upon the great nation of England, to which I’m sure it has never truly recovered. I, of course, was a member of that invasion. We had come with our marching band to march on New Year’s Day in the Lord Mayor’s Day Parade. We had no idea who the Lord Mayor was or why he was having a parade. To be honest, I’m still not sure I really know who he is, although I have met his wax figure at a coffee shop in Madame Tussaud’s, but that comes later really. Anyway, during our 9-day trip, we endured wind and cold to do the tourist thing- Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, Stratford upon Avon, Hampton Court, and Windsor Castle. We were absolutely thrilled to be in a castle and were quite taken with the sandwich shop that tilted slightly to one side. We were also completely confused by the fact that it costs more to eat inside a place than to take it away. Bizarre.

As it happened, we spent a great few days in the country, only mildly disturbing the locals with our enthusiasm, and then we were prepped for the big parade. Now, anyone who plays a woodwind instrument knows that once you tune the instrument (in my case, an alto saxophone) you must continue to keep the reed wet and horn warm. So, the best way to accomplish this is to blow hot air through the mouthpiece and down the horn. Now, as it happened, the temperature never rose above about 20° F the whole time we were there. I remember clearly waiting in line to see the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London and trying to ‘Think Warm’ with my friends. I might also add that I was very disappointed by the Crown Jewels, much like I was with the Hope Diamond in the Smithsonian. We were built up and let down as we were whisked past the treasures on a moving sidewalk. Perhaps I just don’t know anything, which is entirely possible, but it all looked like costume jewelry.

More to the point, we were standing somewhere in cold, slightly spritzy, and overcast London waiting to begin. Once the procession had begun, we were to march through the streets playing some tune which I no longer even remember. However, one thing we forgot was that when hot breath is blown into cold air, a very interesting thing happens, it’s called ‘condensation.’ As it turns out, the condensation had frozen the holes to most of the keys on my sax, leaving me to play A, B, alternate B flat 1, C, and C sharp. I spent the majority of the parade trying to chisel off the ice. I even went to the extreme of taking the Hot Hands out of my gloves and trying to melt the ice. Nothing seemed to work.

When I returned to England last summer, I was pleased to see that most things were unchanged. I had a great visit with Najette and her flatmates where I learned important things like how selfish it is to commit suicide by throwing oneself in front of a train. My life has never been the same since, as you might imagine. Well, I had initially intended to spend only a few days in London on either side of my European vacation, but after Munich, I returned for a solid 11 days to take in the sights, like the hospital where I had my foot examined.

When I arrived at the airport after the Bavarian disaster, the passport guy (none of whom like me) asked me my purpose in the UK. I could only think to say, “Oh, I don’t know, see Big Ben, maybe take in a show?” I thought it was funny, he huffed and stamped and sent me on my hobbling way. However, this wasn’t a lie. I spent a great few days touring the various green spaces in London including Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, and Kew Gardens. Kew was probably the most beautiful but least serene as the whir of airplanes roaring over Heathrow airport disrupted my ponderings on natural beauty. It also costs £6 ($12) to get in. So, I would say that Kensington Gardens was my favorite with the Peter Pan statue and the pond.

After a visit to the Museum of London (personal favorite) and the Sherlock Holmes Museum) where I had a nice chat with the detective himself), and after somewhere close to 15 bottles of white wine, it was time to go home.

Since then, I’ve been back three times, and I’ve compiled a list of reasons to move to England (in order of appearance to me):

1. Alan Rickman
2. Richard Roxburgh
3. Pubs
4. Sunday Roasts (esp. Yorkshire Pudding)
5. Walker’s Crisps
6. Guy Fawkes Day
7. Jaime
8. Godalming et al
9. Lucozade
10. Sandwiches
11. English Mustard
12. Train system/ Underground
13. School of Oriental and African Studies
14. Foyles Bookshop
15. British Museum

Now, I’m sure that a good number of you are thinking: ? Am I right? Ok, well, let’s explore a few of these, shall we?

Alan Rickman is a god, mere mortals tremble in his presence, and I especially tremble in his presence, but let’s keep this blog G rated. Anyway, I made a pilgrimage to his old school in Hammersmith and considered leaving some small token of my appreciation for his greatness.

Moving on, the Sunday Roast is the quite possible the most amazing meal I’ve ever had in my life. During my initial stay with the lot at Batman Close, I had a great meal at some pub, which we will call ‘Random Pub on the Thames’ for the sake of conversation. A nice piece of roast beef, potatoes, sweet potatoes, other various vegetables, Yorkshire pudding- all covered in gravy. I will have to admit that the first time I had Yorkshire pudding, the waiter sat this bread looking object on the table and after a few minutes, I asked him where the pudding was, he pointed at the loaf. Yes, I too was shocked that Yorkshire pudding isn’t really a pudding pudding in that sense.

Living in Poland, I have learned to accept that chips only come in the following flavors: onion, paprika, onion, paprika. I nearly burst at the seams upon seeing Herb Roasted Chicken and Thyme, Sweet Thai Chili, and a variety of others including my old favorites like Salt and Vinegar or Worcester sauce… mmmm

I also personally think that the UK has some of the best holidays of any country. Take Guy Fawkes Day for instance. Now, some guy tries to blow up Parliament, and now there’s a huge day devoted to consuming massive amounts of alcohol and burning things, that’s a perfect holiday! I find this fascinating, after all, there is no Benedict Arnold day. I can’t even envision what a Benedict Arnold Day would even be like. But the fun doesn’t end there, what about Pancake Day? Yet another wonderful holiday, eat things. That seems to be all! Or, how about Boxing Day, which I scrutinized every year in my planner wondering in what obscure country there was a day devoted to Boxing. Turns out, it’s not about Boxing at all. Back in the day, servants received their presents the day after Christmas so now the day is just an extra get presents and drink alcohol day. Fascinating country with their priorities straight: alcohol, presents, desserts.

As this seems to be droning on and on, I’ll leave you with one interesting purely hypothetical situation to see what you think.

Imagine, for a moment, that you have decided to visit Madame Tussaud’s, the famous wax museum. You think, ‘wow, think of all those people cast in wax.’ Upon further thought, you’re not really sure why you want to go or what you would do upon meeting Jennifer Aniston or Tom Cruise in wax, but that’s beside the point. It’s an institution right? Anyway, your curiosity gets the best of you and you decide to go, with two other adult peoples and one child. You yourself are perhaps… let’s say, for the sake of argument, 24. Said child is, oh, about 10. Right, you brave wind, cold, and rain and find yourself outside Madame Tussaud’s.

As it turns out, you are appalled by the extortionist prices of getting in- £22 ($44) for an adult and £18 ($36) for a child. However, you are with clever people. They are carrying in their possession a coupon which will allow 2 people to go into the museum for the price of 1. ‘Wow!’ you think, ‘all those people in wax for the low cost of…’ sorry, I slipped into a used car commercial there. Anyway, you wait in a long line to purchase tickets to see the infamous Madame Tussaud’s and her wax museum. Confusion ensues.

Now, let’s say that someone else in your party presents a completely filled out coupon for the 2 for 1 special to the nice lady at the register. After several exchanges of ‘I don’t think that’s right’ because, well, it wasn’t, there was an acquiescence, which looked more like defeat. The point is that only two people should have had to pay- probably two adults which would allow the other adult and the child to get in for free. However, this does not happen. The 24 year old is charged as a child, the actual child is admitted as a child, and one adult goes in free. With so much confusion, one can understand why defeat was admitted and life seemed to move on.

Well, as it happened, Madame Tussaud’s was missing a few of its more famous wax figures. Marilyn Monroe was over at Harrod’s doing a photo shoot or something and there were also several other key figures out, perhaps doing charity work somewhere. Some of the figures were quite good, The Rock, Morgan Freeman, Jennifer Aniston, and many others were done quite well. Others, like Elvis (aka The King) and James Dean left you tilting your head to one side and going ‘hm, maybe, if you can look at it from this angle…’

Anyway, quite possibly, the best part was the historic figures and dictators section (unofficial name of course) where one could pose next to Henry VIII with all his wives (heads attached) or Nelson Mandela, Gandhi, W, Queen E II, or, to my shock, Adolf Hitler. Now, imagine walking through there, looking at the kind crinkly face of Gandhi, a withered little man, peace loving man with kind spectacles, and then Nelson Mandela, freedom fighter and hero, you see Tony Blair and boom, there’s Hitler looking rather fierce. Of course, you have to get a closer look.

Now, you are further appalled by the fact that all of these figures have actual hair, real human hair that is used to make them look more real. I find that Hitler with human hair a bit disturbing. Makes you shudder. Anyway, apparently, after a bombing during WWII, Hitler was one of the few waxes to survive.

After a proposal from George Clooney, you learn that many things have been left behind at Madame Tussaud’s over the years. Over 100 pairs of false teeth and a prosthetic limb among them. I can almost see how one might leave a pair of false teeth, you take them out to… I don’t know, I was going to say see better, but… However, I personally wonder how anyone can run off with out their limb. That, I believe, has to be impossible. But it’s not only happened once, it’s apparently happened several times. Who walks off without their arm, or more importantly, how can you walk off without a leg? I find this intriguing and I have spent too much time over the weeks giving it serious thought. What is most interesting is that an amorous young woman once left a pair of underpants in Mel Gibson’s pocket!!! Which led to me to a shocking realization. That’s right, there was no Alan Rickman. Can you believe it?

Stunned, you move on. You take a little jaunt on a ride called ‘The London Ride,’ such a creative name, which will tell you the entire history of London in 5 minutes: London, it was there, there was a fire, there was London, there was plague, some Dark Ages, Queen Victoria, the Blitz, and surreal London with a crossdresser in a canoe reading a book. See, everything you ever needed to know.

Now, the next part is where our heroes get thrown out of the museum. Being a bit disappointed by the price and content, mostly due to the mischarging, our two elder heroes attempt to rectify all for the greater good. The others stay behind and play Dance Revolution. Let’s say at this point, that there is threatening by the MT staff, taken abackness (which I am now christening a new word) by the elders, a frenzy of more confusion and heated dialogue, a threat of dismemberment (not really, but I thought I’d spice it up a bit), culminating in the elders being asked to leave…. Of course, they’d left their two ‘children’ in the gift shop dancing their little shoes off. A quick sneak through the back entrance, the revelation of the discourse, and the realization that there was no refund, there was no customer service, and the whole group got thrown out of a wax museum.

I had to laugh at the situation. I did learn so much from the London Ride however, and I feel I am now competent to answer any questions on the history of London on Jeopardy, but I’m not really heartbroken though. After all, there wasn’t even a wax Alan Rickman.

Quote for the week:
“If your head is wax, don’t walk in the sun” –Benjamin Franklin

Latin Phrase of the week:
Obesa cantavit.
The fat lady has sung.