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I've been (surprise surprise) in England for the last couple of weeks with Raed, my eldest, and his gurl Sara and, in that typically epiphanic way of mine, while I was there something hit me---well, come to think of it, it actually hit me nearly every single time I walked into a shop or other public building, often almost hit me right in the face, each time emphasising just how far the of Richard has proceeded.
It was, of course, the door.
You see contrary to American expectation all exterior doors in England (and possibly Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland; and, Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if in the whole of Europe), all doors, open inward---I suppose it makes it easier to quickly get in out of the rain, and it stops the cold North Wind that always blows (at least blows while I'm there) ripping them off their hinges, so avoiding all that embarrassment of chasing doors as they flutter down the street in the wind. And of course, when not chasing doors, people over there are relaxed and calm and stoical. This is in contrast to the outward opening doors over here: over here, where Americans are much more likely to panic, the doors always open outwards so that they can escape when they do.
...Panic I mean.
...The Americans that is.
Now this is not just mere speculation because we did Research, Raed and Sara and me.
You see, on our last full day in London, tiring of wandering around the and the freezing windy streets and indeed of London in general (though not, please note in direct contradiction to Dr Johnson, of life), we decided to warm up in a passing cafe. (It was at this point that the epiphanipherous or epiphany bearing door decided to emulate that long line of its predecessors by not opening the way I expected it to.) So Raed and Sara and me ended up sitting in this London cafe (we had, after I'd eventually figured out the door's operating system and had had my epiphany, entered one of the few nonStarbucksian ones which, in retrospect, added an air of scientific detachment to the proceedings) surreptitiously checking people as they in their turn entered; noting the ones who nearly did themselves a nasty by pulling the merely pushable door, and then trying to catch a whiff of their accent or other hint of Americanism in them.
While our results were not as conclusive as we would have liked, we felt that a vague pattern was emerging, and that pattern screamed out the importance of the (sort of) Great God Panic! Especially when we noted the slight tendency to panic on the part of those who pushed the pullable door on the way out.
Why, now that I think on my total Americanisation, Panic had even affected me earlier that very day when Sara had forced me, much against my will, to go and stand outside Buckingham Palace, the most evil dwelling in the Universe and then some (not to mention ugly), so that she could get some photos of it and its unfortunate guards for her father, the horror and shame of this pretty obviously led me to Panic's territory, and the only thing that supported me during the whole demeaning ...palpitating episode was the certainty that no one will ever know what she'd made me do.
And indeed, if we cast our panicky net ever wider we see the spirit of the Great God floating upon the waters (usually at 30,000 feet) or rather draging us into the mire at either end, because the one thing (apart from the cold wind) that you really can't miss when traveling is the panic inherent in Security---that Post-equine-departure Stable Bolting arm of government: I mean is there any way of telling if any of this does anything more useful than annoying the Hell out of the public?
Indeed this Panicky attitude has now become so universal it's now panPanic, and it's not just borders but everything that's so security sealed it's almost become a game; a sort of peer pressure "Nyaa! Nyaa! our product is harder to get into than yours, even if it's an inedible DVD!" I suspect that this aspect started even before the border-safety-seals; with that Tylenol thing back in the eighties.
And it is all meaning
less; because while I admit that people (probably especially nutters and terrorists and the like) do tend to copy each other we really do have absolutely no idea what the risks are and what the reduction in those risks (if any) might be. All we've really done is to create yet another service or maybe I mean a disservice industry...
Cheerio for now
from Richard Howland-Bolton.
and remember folks
When in danger or in doubt,
Run in circles,
Scream
And shout.
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