As Sirs Stewart and McKellan prepare to take their leave of the Big Apple, they have apparently tweeted out over a dozen photos that will save the NYC Tourist Board a fortune in advertising. They’ve traveled from Wall Street to Coney Island, enjoying the total out-of-towner experience, corny poses and all.
And while I’m glad everything has gone so smoothly for these acting legends during their run on Broadway, there are some notable exceptions that should make British buddies think twice about traveling to the island of Manhattan.
Who remembers when the ladies of Ab Fab went to New York for Fashion Week?
If I recall correctly, Eddie and Patsy were accidentally joined in marriage by Whoopi Goldberg and, when sufficiently under the influence, the pair proceeded to set a bar on fire. This resulted in the obligatory arrest of the best friends and, one would assume, their deportation back to Britain.
But when has there ever been anything subtle or sober about Patsy Stone and Edina Monsoon?
Then of course, this trio of companions decided to take an uncomplicated mini-break to relax in Central Park…
And unfortunately two-thirds of them didn’t make it back to Old Blighty.
The beginning of the Weeping Angel invasion of New York image credit BBC
If you ask me, the Doctor’s not been the same man since he came back from that trip.
What lesson should my British readers take from this? If you plan on traveling to New York with your BFF, drink in moderation, skip the illegal substances and for God’s sake, don’t blink!
If I were to go back to college today, I think I would study linguistics. I was rubbish at speaking French so it’s not really the different languages that interest me. Rather it’s the accents and dialects within a language that I find fascinating. It goes without saying, I’m sure, that my area of expertise would be accents of the UK.
When watching a film or TV series I often play a game with myself trying to guess the character’s place of origin based on their pronunciation and use of slang . I don’t always guess correctly but my ear for accents has been greatly improved by my exposure to endless hours of British telly. Besides the basic RP accent (similar to the Midwestern dialect in the US for being “free of an accent”), I can identify Northern Irish, Scottish dialects generally but not specific to the area, Welsh, West Country, Geordie and Yorkshire.
While I find most British accents pleasant, I can’t abide the really aristocratic sounding ones as they irrationally irritate me somehow. Perhaps my aversion began with posh speakers such as this…
The next challenge I’ve set for myself is to decipher what I call the vernacular of the mumblers. From what I’ve witnessed, this incoherent muttering seems to be a fairly common speech pattern in Britain.
The first time many of us in the States were exposed to this phenomenon is probably when the Osbournes came to America…
The following are my research findings thus far concerning this small but widespread British dialect:
Most often this mumbling can be found in elderly people due to hearing loss, lack of energy needed to enunciate words, or can even be the result of ill fitting dentures. Sometimes such individuals need an interpreter…
In other instances, no translation is necessary. Everyone in Pontyberry, Wales can understand what Daddy has to say…
Apparently a lack of diction can sometimes be stress induced…
But perhaps my biggest challenge in comprehending the verbally muddled was when I tried to watch the long-running, therefore I also assume well-loved, Scottish sitcom Rab C. Nesbitt. It took me three views of this scene to understand what Rab was going on about; however, with only the smallest amount of investigation, I can deduce Mr. Nesbitt’s speech anomalies have everything to do with drinking…
Who knows? Perhaps I’ve stumbled across something really big in the linguistics world. Maybe someone will give me all kinds of funding to unravel the mystery of the UK mumblers. And this bloke here could be our poster boy!
While searching Google for another image recently, I saw this photo.
Two questions immediately sprung to mind. First, is this a proper road sign? And if so, is the general direction you’re headed the only piece of information needed to travel the famous M1? If so I see very little need to use a GPS (or sat nav), on the motorway anyhow.
I realize the English are very north-south oriented since it’s commonplace to hear people say “up and down the country” whereas in the US we think of our expanse more in terms of east to west. Unfortunately for us, many Americans still can’t help but be reminded of our Civil War whenever North and South is discussed.
This is not to be confused with…
…this
What’s also interesting about this sign is how the arrows direct you not north, but to The North. From my TV viewing I’ve definitely gotten the idea that Northerners and Southerners see one as distinctly different people; however, until researching this post I did not realize there is actually a North-South divide. Here’s a Southerner’s take on the North…
Of course we need to give the Northerners an opportunity to reply:
Obviously these types of divisions and stereotypes are bound to lead to a bit of competitiveness and one upmanship:
Taking out a moment to be serious, the divide is apparently a very hot social and political topic in Britain. Where you live has a great effect on your health and life expectancy, income, house prices and employment prospects:
North-South Unemployment Divide
I don’t claim to be a social scientist so I’m clearly not in any position to offer solutions. We’re not any better off in the States really. I don’t believe the gap has closed between the one percent-ers and the rest of us. All I can suggest is to have some more laughs at the expense of one another’s differences.
For example, here’s of a posh Southerner describing what he’s learned in his time at university amongst the Mancunians:
And here’s a delightful Geordie nanny plopped down in the middle of a house full of privileged xenophobes.
For most their hometowns and regions are a source of pride and the criticisms I’ve presented here are just good natured teasing. However, when a British government think tank called the Policy Exchange proposed this solution to relieve the disparity between the north and south several years ago…
Daily Mail 2008
It would surely make me wonder if my country wouldn’t be better off in the hands of the comedians.
May-December romances have no doubt existed throughout human history. Having just finished the enjoyable BBC One series Me and Mrs. Jones (despite being forced to watch it on YouTube with some very distracting Spanish subtitles), I began to wonder what I would do if I found myself in Mrs. Jones’ shoes.
The cast of the BBC One sitcom Me and Mrs. Jones
Before we embark on the predicament put forward in the title, let’s define what we mean by “cougar.” According to About.com, a cougar is “a woman 40 years of age or older who exclusively pursues very young men …typically those almost young enough to be their sons.”
Here’s a prime example of a real life cougar/cub relationship:
Fifty Shades of Grey director Sam Taylor-Johnson (46) and her husband actor Aaron Taylor-Johnson (23)
However, I prefer to look at examples of the way British television has approached the older woman/younger man scenario because, as we all know, TV imitates life.
Francesca Annis and Robson Green in the ITV miniseries Reckless
In Reckless (1997), young physician Owen Springer (Green) changes jobs to be near his ailing father in Manchester only to fall for a much older woman who also happens to be his boss’ wife. A lot of wooing on Owen’s part has to take place before Anna (Annis) is convinced to take a chance on this unorthodox relationship. Is Anna a cougar if she doesn’t initiate the relationship? I’m not aware of the official cougar guidelines, but the chemistry between the pair would seem to contradict her claims of disinterest.
As a couple, River and the Doctor have the appearance of a cougar situation though Whovians know it’s the Doctor who’s actually robbed the cradle. Nevertheless, there’s no denying River does have that assertive cougar vibe about her…
The sitcom Pramface presents us with a less an age difference than a stage of life difference. Jamie (Sean Verey) and Laura (Scarlett Alice Johnson) meet at a drunken blowout at the end of school exams. Jamie looses his virginity and Laura gets pregnant in the process. When the two meet afterwards so that Laura can break the news, she is appalled to find that the father of her child is only sixteen years old while she’s eighteen and ready to go off to university.
Unfortunately no clear pattern has emerged so let’s go back to the dilemma at hand. Gemma Jones (Sarah Alexander), frazzled mother of a grown son and set of school age twins, hasn’t had the time or energy for any romance in her life since she and her mildly insensitive husband Jason (Neil Morrissey) broke up. Then suddenly out of nowhere, Gemma is faced with a choice of two eligible men:
Tom (Nathaniel Parker) is a well-off single father who the other moms at school consider to be “the catch of the playground.” He has a precocious daughter whom he spoils and fancies himself a renaissance man – wine connoisseur, gourmet cook, martial artist. Good-natured, if not a bit neurotic, and really quite sweet once you get past the goofiness, Tom is trying to move on after his cruel wife left him for another man.
Gemma’s other option is a trickier proposition:
Gemma’s son Alfie (Jonathan Bailey) returns from his gap year trip abroad bringing a new mate Billy(Robert Sheehan) home with him – apparently Billy saved Alfie’s life at some point of the journey. Whenever in his presence, Gemma becomes as giddy as a teenage girl. And after overhearing Billy talk her daughter out of her stage fright, she is moved to kiss him in the school hallway out of appreciation and, let’s face it, lust. A mature young man, Billy gently urges Gemma to talk about her feelings and their obvious attraction for one another without much success.
In the course of six episodes, Gemma tries her level best to feel some attraction for Tom while simultaneously attempting to deter Billy’s appealing advances. It all leads up to the final episode of the series wherein Gemma must make her decision, a mini break in a luxury yurt with Tom or a picnic under the stars with Billy.
You may well be asking yourself at this point, for the love of God, who does she choose? For those of you who may be worried about spoilers there’s really no need to worry since I can’t spoil this much more than the BBC already did. As Gemma sits at the intersection of her life, deciding whether to turn towards a safe, socially acceptable relationship or an exciting adventure that just might turn her family against her, the screen goes to black. It’s a cliffhanger ending which turns out to be a bloody forever cliffhanger because Me and Mrs. Jones wasn’t commissioned for a second season!
Since the BBC deprived us of a resolution to Gemma’s romantic entanglements, I feel I’m left with no option than to make the choice for her. And this type of decision requires a good old assessment of pros and cons.
There’s not really much to discuss when it comes to Tom. He and Gemma are at similar stages in their lives – divorced, children, financial responsibilities, etc. In their situation, it’s merely a question of compatibility. Gemma is a disorganized slob while Tom is a zen neat freak. Is there any attraction there? With Tom still in love with his ex and Gemma just not feeling it, I think it would take a lot of work to generate more than an affectionate friendship.
Me and Mrs. Jones’ Tom (Nathaniel Parker)
Billy, on the other hand, is more accepting of Gemma’s imperfections and even loves her for them. Roadblocks for Billy include that fact that he is Alfie’s friend and that could be a very sore point between mother and son if he and Gemma start dating. Although if you ask me Alfie is a bit of a self-absorbed twat so losing his respect for a while probably wouldn’t be a horrible loss.
Alfie (Jonathan Bailey) upset at witnessing the snog between his mother and his friend.
Billy is just beginning his career as a chef so he must live simply as young people generally do. How long will it take before the charm of spending the night with Billy at his bedsit rubs off? And finally, though Billy has a wonderful rapport with Gemma’s daughters, is he prepared to act as a step-father at such a young age?
So what would you do? If I was Gemma, a character in a TV show, I’d unleash my inner cougar and take my chances with Billy, a truly lovely guy inside and out.
Billy (Robert Sheehan) waiting for Gemma’s decision
However, in the real world it would take a very special man indeed to take on the complications that come with a ready-made family and a woman who’s liable to feel insecure about her looks when compared to women her boyfriend’s age. Remember Ashton and Demi?
Idealistically I’d pass on both suitors and wait for a guy my own age like Tom who makes me feel like Billy does. I’m sure it would be worth the wait. Realistically, there probably is no such man (besides my husband of course;)
It may be foolish, but after coming in as my most popular post for the fourth consecutive year, I’ve seriously been considering retiring (deleting) “Is ‘bloody’ really a swear word?” from my blog. It’s been a good little earner as far as viewing stats go, but I think I want to move on to other profanities and more creative ways of using the medium. It is 2014 after all and I do reside in the sweariest state in the US . (I still think that report is total bollocks! We Midwestern residents are known for our friendliness and even tempers.)
But I digress. I just feel lazy relying on that old “bloody” chestnut” when swearing, especially in the UK, is apparently state of the art and, according to the Daily Mash, “still the best in the world.”
I mean how bad a cuss word can “bloody” be if this kid says it constantly?
On the other hand, this gentleman is an artist. He likes to string his rude words together like the lyrics of a song…
And lest you think men are the only true expletive experts, Nan is not only quick with an obscene word but generally crass as well:
Stephen Fry, a confessed linguaphile, has spoken at length about his opinions on swearing.
I have to admit I was once one of those people Fry describes as “mad, silly, prissy people” who thought people who swore a lot didn’t know any better words to use. To be fair, the people I was familiar with tended to choose one particular naughty word and would proceed to repeat it ad nauseam.
Back then I would have never been able to appreciate a verbal abuse virtuoso like Malcolm Tucker…
But now that I have become either enamored of or anesthetized to profanity, I am moving up to bigger and badder things…I think. I have my reputation as an Ohioan to think about as well. Therefore, if I have to swear, no fecking wanker is going to tell me which words I have to use. You’re going to tell me instead.
From the list below, please vote for which is your favorite British swear word. My choices may seem a bit tame, but they’re words we don’t use in the States and so have an exotic quality I enjoy. It’s almost like not swearing actually. If you feel strongly about another, please choose the “other” category and share your word. I will report my findings in a future post and perhaps your input will help me decide the fate of bloody as a swear word.
If you’re like me you’re not much of a costume person. My seamstress skills are limited to sewing on buttons. I can manage a simple clothing re-purpose but often times I don’t have the required items on hand. When I had to dress up for my Time Lord trivia tournament, I wore a Doctor Who t-shirt and drew hash marks on my arms like The Doctor and his cohorts did to keep track of the number of times they encountered the Silence. Pity my children as I’m sure you can image the sort of Halloween costumes they ended up wearing as children.
So if you’re wracking your brain for a trick or treat or Halloween party costume, firstly, you’ve obviously procrastinated and secondly, based on what I’ve just admitted above, you are foolish indeed to come to me for advice. But if you insist, here are my best and quickest British telly costume suggestions.
1. The Moon from The Mighty Boosh
There’s probably a way to neatly conceal your hair in one of those latex bald caps, but face it, you probably don’t have one of those around the house. No worries, just shave all your hair off instead and then artfully sculpt whipped cream, or even better, meringue all over your face and head. You know Noel Fielding would do it!
2. Little Britain’s Anne
A fairly easy costume to put together if you can raid your granny’s closet- a knee-length cotton or flannel nightgown, mule slippers, a pink cardigan and eyeglasses. Perfect for men or women with pixie haircuts. Instead of trick or treat, however, you must say “Eh, eh, eh” or you’ll ruin the effect.
3. Maurice Moss from The IT Crowd
Most men should have the items needed for a Maurice Moss costume in their wardrobe: a plaid, short-sleeved shirt, outdated tie, high water khakis and white trainers. Throw on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and a backpack and you’re almost there. I reckon for most people Moss’ distinctive hair will be the most problematic element of the costume. If you don’t have a large afro-ish wig nestled away in your attic, you can do the next best thing. Get a home perm! Surely that would be cheaper than buying a hairpiece you’ll never use again.
4. Catherine Tate’s Lauren Cooper
Gather up the basic school uniform components and you’ll have a respectable Lauren Cooper disguise. An over-sized, white button up shirt; black skirt; striped tie, loosely knotted; and if possible, a pair of patterned tights in stripes or argyle. The hair must be slicked back into a chav ponytail and dangly earrings are a nice touch. The most important part of this costume, however, is the attitude. At all times you must refrain from appearing bovvered.
5. Captain Edmund Blackadder from Blackadder Goes Forth
This army ensemble should be simple to assemble, khaki from head to foot and accented with red suspenders for a dash of color. The key to this costume is the accessories – two pencils, a pair of men’s underpants, and nice substantial wibble.
Well, there you have it – five fairly good fancy dress options for your Halloween festivities. Depending on where you live and what sort of television your friends and neighbors watch, I can’t guarantee you’ll get many compliments. Most likely you’ll encounter a lot of puzzled looks and the inevitable, “Who are you supposed to be, exactly?”
Tomorrow (Sept. 12) Ricky Gervais’ dramedy Derek will begin streaming on Netflix. Originally broadcast on Channel 4 in the UK last winter, we in the US now have the opportunity to pay to watch it on our computer screens (which I already did on YouTube for free).
Actually I am encouraged that more British television is being made available to us stateside and it’s getting to us more quickly than ever. Thank God for Hulu and Netflix!
I’ve already commented on this series before, just here. But seeing as I banged on about how touching and sentimental the show was, I feel I should give a heads up to anyone out there who is foolish enough to rely on me as your main source of British telly information. While the lead character may be all sweetness and light, the show is not without a few rude words scribbled thoughtlessly on an innocent crab or two. Such as these…
I actually shared this clip with you because I know my demographic. My most read post ever is called “Is Bloody Really a Swear Word?” after all. My readers obviously like a bit of profanity now and again.
You’re welcome! Stay tuned for my next installment of British telly obscenity – a master class by the genius potty mouth, Malcolm Tucker.
From what I gather, the UK is a country of gamblers. On the telly, neighborhoods have a betting shop on every corner, very much like Starbucks here. And it would seem that anything is fair game for a wager
from how long the speeches at a wedding will take…
I Give It a Year best man speech (radiotimes)
to every detail of the birth of a baby born to a couple of strangers…
Odds on gender and name (independant.com)
We’re a bit more puritanical here in the States. Sure, my grandma liked her Friday night bingo and I know people who love a trip to the casino now and again to spend their $20 self-imposed limit, but betting parlors? I wouldn’t know where to find one to save my life. Such establishments have a seedier reputation here. It’s not just a casual entertainment activity.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen plenty of British police and family dramas depicting poor sods with debts owed to bookies and the violence that surrounds that sort of lifestyle. Gambling addictions are universally devastating whichever side of the pond you find yourself on. And you can bet the farm that this behavior eventually brings ruin to addicts and their families:
Famous compulsive gambler, Dr. Eddie Fitzgerald (digital spy)
Then of course there’s the lottery, a form of gambling that requires no skill or acumen. It also has the particular allure of allowing players to dream about what they’d do with their considerable winnings and how their lives would be changed.
In Waking Ned Devine, winning the lotto actually brought the villagers of Tullymore closer as a community:
The Syndicate, on the other hand, portrayed a more complicated set of circumstances for a group of co-workers at a Leeds grocery store who were shocked and delighted to learn they’d won the big prize. Out of the five winners, only two could really say their lives were improved by their winnings. The other three had preexisting problems which the money only served to exacerbate.
And then there’s the gambling to be had in Blackpool – the city and the TV series.
In the first half of the 20th century, Blackpool was the holiday destination, especially for Northern working class families. And though cheaper travel opportunities have enticed Brits to take their holidays in warmer climes abroad, attractions like Blackpool Tower, Pleasure Beach amusement park and of course the famous Illuminations still make Blackpool a favorite UK seaside destination.
You can spend the day riding the donkeys or strolling the Blackpool promenade, but when it comes to games of chance and skill, you’re going to wish there was such a place as Ripley Holden’s amusement arcade.
Self-imagined Blackpool hot shot entrepreneur, Ripley Holden has big plans to turn his shiny new arcade into a world class hotel and casino. That is before a young man’s body is dumped on his property the night after the big grand opening. Enter DI Carlisle, an out of town officer with no ties to the bent Blackpool coppers already in Ripley’s pocket.
Blackpool features a love triangle, old vendettas and a proper murder mystery. The decision to insert oddly surreal musical numbers throughout the series was a risky venture that, in my opinion, really paid off.
First, I must apologize. I had intended on writing a little something about each episode in this final series of Being Human. But my good intentions and time flew out the window leaving me with this one post to tie things up.
A quick recap then, shall we? And please stop here if you haven’t finished the series and don’t wish to have the ending spoiler-ed!
Hal went back on the blood big time and became Very Bad Hal indeed:
Tom met a new girl and certain feelings were belatedly awakened:
Alex learned to use her feminine ghostly wiles to get the boys to do her bidding purely for her amusement and delight. Sort of like Punk’d Supernatural-style:
This series was full of obstacles and challenges including a multitude of ghosts, werewolves and vampires using Honolulu Heights as a supernatural halfway house – due in large part to the closure of the mysterious Mr. Rook’s lock-up facility.
But it was the housemates dealings with the Devil himself that pushed them to the brink of their friendship and sanity. When they each refused Captain Hatch’s deal for a life lived free of their curses in an alternate reality, the ultimate battle against evil ensued and this was the result:
Seems too easy doesn’t it? What really happened to Tom, Hal and Alex at the end of this epic story?
My family watched the farewell episode of Being Human together and we each had a different interpretation. My daughter took the ending at face value because she wanted a happy conclusion and decided to entertain nothing else.
My husband said they were dead because in the very last shot, the angle on the mantel is tilted and yet nothing falls off the shelf indicating something is not right, not real…therefore, they are no more.
The wolf left by the Devil image credit bbc
I have to admit I didn’t know what to think. I had been prepared for a repeat of the tears I shed for Mitchell, George and Annie. I was more than a little nervous about watching the inevitably tragic, but honorable end to three characters I had really come to care about.
I read a few articles on-line afterwards and came to the conclusion that Hal, Tom and Alex probably were in a dream state or alternate reality of some sort. But at least, I thought, the audience was being spared an emotionally painful loss inflicted three times over. And I could be reassured in the fact that our heroes would live out their days together, free of the curses that caused them so much torment over the years. It was a kindness that the Captain had bestowed upon them really.
But no, we couldn’t be left to remember them as we wished – happy , content and living the lives they deserved. Honestly it would have been an insult to all five series of Being Human to have handed our trio a perfect life. Flawed characters to be sure, Hal fought off and on for centuries to overcome his blood addiction. Alex worked through all the stages of grief (staying in anger mode for quite some time, I’d say) to finally come to grips with her senseless death and to understand her place within the supernatural world. Sweet Tom suffered less from his monthly transformations than he did the loneliness and isolation that resulted from his temporary but dangerous condition.
Would a show that delved so deeply into the darkness of our struggles to be human take the easy way out?
This is apparently the definitive explanation of what happened to our trinity of paranormal friends:
Not what I would have wanted, but a fitting conclusion to the spirit of this wonderful show. I’ll miss every one – Hal and Mitchell, Tom and George, Alex and Annie – but fortunately I can pop over to Netflix anytime I need a visit with my favorite vampires, ghosts and werewolves.
I’m sharing the funniest telly moment I’ve witnessed this week. It’s simply a father entertaining his children with his very fine velociraptor impersonation.
If you have kiddos of your own you know this is so true to life. Its pure silliness made me smile.
Adendum: I realize I’ve been writing a lot about babies and children recently which I’m sure has made me come across all broody. (I heard Mel B use that word on the Today Show yesterday and I had to use it!) But really it’s all just coincidence. No children (or yikes! grandchildren) on the horizon. Just a royal baby frenzy and my recent viewing choices. I’ll be moving on to another subject directly.
Everything I Know about the UK... I Learned from the BBC 