Language

Mike Harling (an American in Britain, and author of Postcards From Across The Pond, which I happened to blurb) and Toni Hargis (a Briton in America, and author of Rules, Britannia: An Insider’s Guide to Life in the United Kingdom) squared off yesterday on which country is better — the US or the UK –  on BBC Radio Scotland. The interview starts about 1 hour and 12 minutes into the broadcast — you can move the pointer to that spot.

Toni wrote on her blog that she didn’t say Americans had zero sense of humor as the host claimed (Toni, I loved your Labrador puppy line!). And I think Mike is turning into a Brit because he never interrupted and he wasn’t all rah-rah-America, but calmly and humorously defended his homeland. Who won? Well, poor Mike was outnumbered and being an American myself … come on, of course America rules! Do we really have to debate this?

I liked the discussion about the difference between US and UK humor. Hargis said she dumped her sarcastic sense of humor years ago because Americans don’t get it — we take everything literally. Hmm. To some degree this is true, especially if you’re kidding around with a Midwesterner or Southerner. But in the Northeast — places like the outer boroughs of NYC, south Boston, or northern New England — sarcasm, irony, and black humor are the gold standards for humor. Indeed, Mike — from upstate New York — gave Britons a little taste of this with his comment about guns being the efficacious way to kill someone, versus stomping on them or lighting them afire as they typically do in the gun-wary UK. And I had to tone down my ironic commentary when I married my husband, an earnest corn-fed boy from Michigan who, along with his family, takes everything at face value.

Nevertheless, I give the British the edge on their collective sense of humor, as well as their conversational skills. And it’s not just because I love the way they sound, I swear.

Anyway, it’s a fun listen and both Toni and Mike spoke their sides very well.

Cadbury announced this week they’ll be printing a new warning, in bright yellow caps, on its Dairy Milk chocolate bars. Brace yourselves. The warning is CONTAINS: MILK. And to eliminate any doubt in consumers’ minds, Cadbury Dairy Milk Fruit and Nut bars will include the warning CONTAINS: MILK, NUTS.

Cynical me thought Cadbury was announcing this news to shift attention away from the other ingredient starting with “M” in their chocolate bars. But no — it’s just the government butting in with their labeling laws.

This is insane. I’m all for ingredient lists on food labels. Several of my son’s friends have severe food allergies. But an additional warning? Does the government really think someone with a nut or milk allergy will pick up a Cadbury Dairy Milk Fruit and Nut bar and think, “Yummy!” (I’ll point out a young child might bite into the bar, but if he can’t read, the special warning is pointless, isn’t it.)

Here’s the deal. On average 20 people die each year in the UK from anaphylactic reactions, some of which (not all) are triggered by foods like nuts and dairy.

On the other hand, the British government reports that 30,000 deaths every year can be attributed to obesity. The Cadbury Dairy Milk bar includes 9.1 grams of saturated fat. Why not add the warning CONTAINS: SATURATED FAT ? Isn’t saturated fat killing more people? ETA: Saturated fats are a tad sneakier than the dairy in a Dairy Milk bar … after all, they’re not called “Cadbury Sat Fat Bars.”

Nothing against Cadbury Dairy Milk bars, by the way. I’m just against silly regulatatory laws. </rant>

Oh dear. It looks like the royal princes’ new office has its first meaty assignment. If you haven’t heard, on Saturday the British tabloid News of the World released a video, purportedly made by Prince Harry in 2006, where he refers to a colleague as “our little Paki friend,” laughed at another colleague for looking like a “raghead,” pretended he was talking to his Granny back at the Palace, and then answered a very indelicate question about the color of his manscaping. The Prince apologized over the weekend through St. James Palace (that’s where his new office is located), saying that he regretted using racist terms, but that they were said without malice. (For American readers who haven’t figured this out, calling someone from Pakistan a “paki” is an offensive racial slur along the lines of “polock,” “wop,” or “jap.”)

The British media is having a field day with this story. The Ministry of Defense is opening a formal inquiry into the Prince’s behavior. Some critics are asking that the Prince be thrown out of the military. Still others worry if this incident will damage relations with Islamic groups in the UK. Prince Harry seems to have inherited the gift of gab from his grandpa, so I can see why the public has latched onto this story.

Given that Harry’s a senior member of the royal family, as well as an officer in the military, it was a big mistake for him to use such derogatory language, even in jest. On top of all this, you’d think he’d be extra careful, given his prior capers with cannabis, Nazi dress-up games, and paparazzi punching sprees.

On the other hand, I’m glad Prince Harry is doing something useful with his life by serving in the military. He could be sitting around St. James Palace all day sucking on his bong, then taking the nights off to club with his South African girlfriend. Instead, it looks like he’s dedicated to his career, and yeah, he used language that’s offensive to civilians, but he’s in the military, where it’s common for soldiers to refer to each other with slurs that cause polite society to cringe. You go after Prince Harry, you go after a whole military culture, and how many soldiers or military officers would escape scrutiny unscathed?

What do you think? Should the military throw the book at Harry? Is an apology enough? Or is this a lot of something about nothing? Add your comments below.

He’s called a Mancunian.

I was wondering about this today — what these labels for locals are called. I discovered they’ve got a name: demonyms. There’s a nice list of them for citizens of the British Isles on this geography site. If you’re American, here’s a list for you, compliments of the Bay Stater running this blog. Although when I’m driving, please call me a Masshole.

Still wondering if a woman from Kent would be called a “Man of Kent.”

Yesterday’s Telegraph ran a piece by its US editor, presumably a Brit living here in the U.S., listing his top 10 most annoying American phrases, phrases that “infuriate” him.

I realize this is a tongue-in-cheek piece in honor of the great holiday Festivus, but “You’re welcome?” Seriously? “Uh huh” is the usual response I receive when I say “Thank you” to a store clerk or anyone under the age of 21. I’d keel over to hear “You’re welcome.”

And in my many (we won’t say how many) years of living in the U.S., I’ve never ever heard someone say, “Let’s visit with each other.” Have you? What Americans tend to say when saying goodbye to a friend or family member whose company they’ve enjoyed, “We should get together soon” or “Let’s meet up again.” It’s shorthand for, “I’d like to do this again, but I’m too tired to dig into my purse for my planner.” Plus, you’d come across as too eager and desperate to reschedule another visit on the spot. If you don’t like someone’s company, you might say something like, “Nice seeing you again” and leave it at that.

As for “Happy Holidays” … Here in the northeastern part of the U.S., I live amongst many Jews, Muslims, and Hindus, so it would feel totally inappropriate for me to blindly wish folks, “Merry Christmas!” Maybe if I lived in a more homogeneous part of the country it would be okay, but for now I’ll stick with my p.c. “Happy holidays!” and risk pissing off a cranky Brit here or there.

Here’s my pet peeve Americanism, something I’ve only noticed here in America in the land of chain restaurants, establishments my unapologetic middlebrow husband likes to frequent. When a server comes over to take our order, he’ll *sit down in our booth* and then say, “My name is Mike and I’ll be your server. How are you guys today? Great! Have you been to Longhorn Steakhouse before? Terrific! Can I start you off with drinks?” This is always delivered with saddlebags filled with mock cheer. America and its damned democratic ideals at their worst! Everyone’s got to be equal. I’m sorry, but when I sit down at Longhorn Steakhouse, I want the waiter to take my orders and bring me my food, not plop down at my table and pretend he’s a friend who actually cares.

I’m always tempted to ask for a bucket in these circumstances, but to preserve marital accord, I zip it.

What Americanisms and Britishisms bug you? Add yours to the comments below.

Today’s the day — later this afternoon, I’ll be heading to London via Newark with my good friend (and most excellent traveling companion) Alison. My bags are packed, the batteries are charged, the passport is tucked away in my purse along with a few stray tenners I found in my office.

I’ll be reporting for a couple of magazine assignments while there (Paris as well), but I’m planning to blog about the trip as much as I can. My planned adventures include stops at Books for Cooks and Stanfords’ Maps and Books — Alison and I are planning more adventures for next year — and of course, the requisite stops at every Boots I pass. I’m very curious to see if my love affair with Boots has truly waned since I can  buy Boots’ products in the U.S. The other thing I’m worried about is falling in love with Publicisdrugstore while in Paris: I hear this place est magnifique — not quite a chemist/pharmacy, but … uh-oh, did I just use very bad French? Shame on me. I will try my best to remain loyal to my Anglo Saxon roots.

p.s. Husband and I think it’s hilarious that of all the French retailers’ websites I’ve visited in the last week, only one had a page in English — and that page was under construction. Those French — so intransigent with us English-speaking folk.

Maybe it’s because I’m a native New Englander, a region of the U.S. rife with quirky pronunciations, but I get a kick over British place name pronunciation. For example, I was born in New London, Connecticut, (”kinneddakit” not “connect-ti-cut”) in a hospital on the banks of the Thames (rhymes with flames) River overlooking the city of Groton (”grah-in”). Other fun New England examples:

• Worcester – “wister”
• Barre – “berry”
• Greenwich – “grennich”
• New Britain – “new brih-en” (New Englanders love glottal stops)
• Leominster – “lemminstir”
• Woburn – “woo-burn” if you’re way out in the Boston burbs, “woo-bin” if you’re a longtime Woburn resident.
• Scituate – “sitch-ew-it”
• Billerica – “bill-RIK-uh”
• Gloucester – “glosster”
• Leicester – “lester”
• Peabody – “pee-b’dee”
• Concord – “kon-kerd” or if from Boston, “kon-ked”

When I was a child I thought it was amusing that the British pronounced their Thames like “tems” and Groton like “grow-tin.” Nevertheless, the place names I encountered on first trips to the motherland were blissfully familiar since colonists borrowed place names from England when they settled New England in the 1600s. Gloucester  Road and Leicester Square tripped merrily off the tongue. (These two places are probably the most butchered names by tourists since they’re hotel and theatre centers in London.) Grosvenor Square was easy because of my appreciation of the Grateful Dead, and because there happens to be a Grosvenor Dale, Connecticut (pronounced “grovenor”) not 20 miles away from my parents’ home. And I knew Derby was “darby” because my English relatives live in Derbyshire.

Others, though, continually tangle my tongue. I hesitate with Holborn, although now that I live near Woburn, Massachusetts, it has become easier to remember. (It’s pronounced “ho-burn” or “ho-bin.”) Another one that got me for the longest time was Marylebone. I’ve finally taught myself to pronounce something like “Mar-lee-bun,” which seems to get me where I need to go especially if I say it very fast. (I refuse to argue about this: even Emma Clarke, the voice of the Underground, struggled with Marylebone.) I still haven’t gotten the Pall Mall pronunciation down — is it Pell Mell? Paul Maul? Pal MaI? I don’t want to sound like a native, but I do like to be understood.

Other English place names that can be a pronunciation minefields:

• Beauchamp Place – “beecham”

• Southwark – “sutherk”

• Magdalen College – “modlin”

• Althorp House – for many years pronounced “awl-trop” but the current Earl Spencer has changed it to “awl-thorp”

• Berkeley – “bark-lee”

• and my personal favorite, Cholmondeley – “chum-lee”

What are the English place names that trip you up? Add them to the comments section below.

Forgive me — I’m on a bit of a Bond roll this week since my husband and I’ve got plans to see Quantum of Solace on Friday. I rarely get to go to the movies with him because we’ve got such incompatible tastes in film and can never agree on anything. Bond films are our common ground: he likes the gadgets, I like … well, Bond. Especially Daniel Craig as Bond. But shhh, I don’t think hubby suspects a thing.

Here’s another fun Bond-themed article, this one on the spy’s spiritual development through the years, although it looks like in this film, 007 faces a setback by getting, as the Brits say, pissed in first class on whatever the flight attendants will serve him. (For American readers, “pissed” is Brit slang for “drunk,” not “angry.”)

If you watch that video clip at the end of the Time article … I wonder how much Lillet paid for that product placement in Casino Royale?

A couple weeks I posted about a CSM column discussing what fans of American culture should be called. Are they Yankiphiles or Ameriphiles?

Last night I was thinking about it and came up with Americanophiles. Actually, I came up with Americanaphile, but then thought it sounded like someone who appreciated things like country dances, lawn art, and Norman Rockwell calendars. Apparently, the Russians and Chinese use Americanophile, and have even translated it into their respective languages. Cool!