I’m Doing Europe (Part Five): London Part Two: London Harder

What follows is a back log of posts I wasn’t able to get up since internet rates in Amsterdam were mostly ridiculous.

Actually Written June 2, 2008

A few more days in London and a few more thoughts:

Accents, Part Two: When I was younger, I was known for speaking in an English accent for random intervals from time to time. It’s one of those bizarre kid things that my parents use these days as anecdotal evidence for either a) a long standing creative streak or b) a long standing bout with schizophrenia. Either one.
     On top of that, I’ve had this (probably) annoying predilection towards mimicking the vocal tics of those people I spend most time with. Phrases, inflection, everything. You can tell when I’ve spent time with my stoner friends when the word “dude” becomes the longest word in the English language.
     Anyway, now that I’m England, both these things have coalesced into a compulsive habit I can’t seem to control. I find myself thanking McDonalds employees in an affected English accent. I use the word “cheers” at any and all opportunity. The worst thing may be that it’s not even the same accent - I’ll discuss the weather to passers by in a very thick Liverpudian while greeting attractive girls with an atrocious Cockney “Allo allo!” Years ago, I went to film camp with a dude people called Manchester Barry and I would routinely greet him in a similar way. “Joaquin, are you mocking me?”
     “Nah, I’m just a weirdo, Barry,” I used to say. Kind of hard to explain to the barista at Starbucks today who heard me order using the Queen’s English before going over to my American bros nearby.
     My only hope is that I can cut this shit out by Germany. I wouldn’t want to see if I could beat out Brad Pitt’s atrocious performance in Seven Years of Tibet.

I sat in a pub today for a few hours and watched (what I think) was most a game of cricket: And I still don’t fucking get it.

Big American Asshole, Part II (Toilets): Here in England, every toilet has a half flush feature and a full flush feature. Apparently, this is to conserve and work for a greener Earth. I do the full flush every time because it reminds me of home, but also because I find the whole half flush to be more than a little inefficient. We Americans are assholes for convenience, aren’t we?

The Tate Modern: Generally a fantastic place! Barely missed an exhibit on Man Ray and Marcel Duchamp, but oh well. Fantastic permanent collection whose highlights for me included a screening of Walden, Wall Explosion II by Roy Lichenstein, and the cute English girls that work there.

Abbey Road: Went to Abbey Road today to walk in the footsteps of my idols/a gazillion other people since then. As we were walking around the St. John’s Wood area of Westminster looking slightly confused, a nice British gentleman resembling Peter Sellers told us where it was. I don’t know for sure how he could have known what we were looking for, but it could have been the fact that we were four confused looking dudes with a camera dressed in rough approximations of the Beatles clothes from the album cover. Go figure.
     We took a decent picture in one try, which was good, since Abbey Road is actually a busy fucking street. We lent out our buddy Milad to be a few Brazilian tourist’s John. I would have loved the idea of being immortalized forever in other tourists’ pictures of Abbey Road, but the fact of the matter is, everyone wants to take off their shoes and be Paul, so my outfit would have been horribly redundant.

Blast from the past: In another one to file in the “small world after all” archives, I ran into a friend from high school today at the hostel we’re staying at. I hadn’t seen Tim since we graduated from high school four years ago, and he seemed like he was having a great time. True to form, Tim (ladies man that he was in high school) had two gorgeous foreign girls on his arm. I’m spending my evening blogging. Some things never change.

Euro Watch 2008, Part One, England: Converting over from the dreaded pound, I figure I’ve spent 263.88 Euro in England. Not too bad, considering everybody talks about how bad London is on the pocket.

Next stop: Brussels? Yeah, Brussels.