Cultural Puberty

I’ve been feeling pretty homesick this summer – primarily as the weather hasn’t cracked 70 degrees and the sun has been an elusive myth, all the while Texas has been having months of over 100 degrees and a historic heat wave.  Now, I know everyone has been complaining about that, but I am used to the heat.  Summer is supposed to be hot!  It is supposed to remind us that we packed on the pounds in the winter and we don’t need them anymore.  (Nor can we hide them in baggy sweaters and coats)  We are supposed to get a healthy tan (yes, I know that is an oxymoron; but admit it, pale people look sick.  And, you DO get Vitamin D from the sun, so really you NEED to sit by the pool with a crappy book and a daiquiri (which, with the lime and strawberry adds even more vitamins.  Well, look at me – I am a total health nut, after all!)).

But, no, I've had none of that this summer.  I stayed white and fat – pretty much like a big glow worm.   And, let’s not even get into the cobwebs on my grill and the state of my backyard garden.  My health is not the only thing suffering.  So, imagine how excited I was to head to Texas for my annual pilgrimage to Austin City Limits!  Now, I have a new job and I work too much so it had to be a really short trip, but I fully intended to pack in all the steak, sunshine, margaritas, music, friends and family that I could.  Not to mention shopping!  Which, I did the minute I got off the plane.  Headed right to the mall and Banana Republic where I saw a totally cute cardigan in purple, which I wanted in black.  So, I asked the sales lady if they had it in other colors.   To which she replied, “Ohmigod, where are you from??  England?!”

Cue shock, surprise, horror and dismay.

What?? How could I be confused as English?  When my work nicknames are Texas Tornado and Texas and I am constantly told that I need to tone down my “Texas-ness” when giving bad news or disagreeing with people at work.  When my phone ring tone is Texas Fight and I wear my cowboy boots on Fridays?  When I constantly amuse people with my Texas phrases – come to Jesus, crazier than a sh*thouse rat, drunker ‘n Cooter Brown (not that these are all used in the same sentence, but, given some of the people I have to deal with at work, they SO could.) and, not the least of which, the omnipresent “y’all.” 

And, yes, people, I put that in work emails, lest anyone forget that, while I may have to tone down the “Texas-ness” at times, it is lurking there below the surface, just in case I ever need to “open up a can of whoop a$$.”  So, turns out maybe my little work reputation (which, I have been told “precedes me, but in the nicest possible way”) may not be unwarranted.  But, I digress.

So, if I am more Texas than pecan pie (see what I did there?  Clever, clever!), how could this poor fellow Texan think I was English? 

Well, as it turns out, it was the way I asked the question.  Not, “hey, does this come in other colors?” but “Have you got this in another colour?”  Tell the difference?  (other than the superfluous “u” that indicates this was spoken in a British accent.  And, don’t get me started on the inappropriate use of the letter “s” in place of the perfectly good, but oft neglected, letter “z” ( NOT zed.  What even is that?).  Come to think of it, I don’t even think they use the letter z in England.  They certainly never say zany or zilch.)   

So, yes, I realiZed that it must have been my intonation since I ended my sentence with an upturned accented question – as in, have you got this in another COLOUR?  See, Americans, say everything as if it were already a fact.  The British seem to almost apologiZe for speaking up.  (and, don't even get me started on the affected stutter or over-use of the passive voice.  Headline, Brits -- no one FALLS pregant.  Things do not GO missing.   Surely, I need not explain why.)

But, in any event,  I think all of this belies a much bigger cultural difference.

We, Americans, are always noted for being uber confident.  We are brash, outspoken, emotional and  operate in obvious-ness and  extremes.  The British are  timid, restrained, subtle and operate in skepticism and cynicism.    I wonder if this reverts back to our histories – we Americans think we won the last two world wars and are now the only super-power in the world.  The British think they ran the world into the ground through imperialism and colonialism and are embarrassed by the legacy of this domination.  It is as if Americans are the dumb teenagers who don’t yet know the effects of getting into bar fights while the British are the grown-ups who just got released from jail after being rehabilitated.   In one, the hormones are in the driving seat, while the other has the brain is in over-drive.

Never is this more obvious than on the new import into the US of a British show – The X Factor USA.   Now, I love the X Factor here in the UK, but I am annoyed to no end by the X Factor USA.   Why?  Well, not just because the complete and utter lack of personality or intelligence exhibited by Nicole Sherzinger who astounds even me with her complete vacuous-ness.  (But, then again she did get famous by wearing underwear and singing about slagging off some guy’s girlfriend.)

No, actually, what annoys me is how everyone LOVES each other.   And, yes, they had all just met.  Now, the British would say that dilutes the value of the word “love” while the Americans think, “hey that just really means I’m a fan.”  (who can forget the “I love you man” beer commercials?)   So, here I am annoyed as all get out by this gushing of emotion that seems totally fake.  But, the thing is, it is not.   I know that those people sincerely felt what they were saying.   Just like a 14 year girl really DOES love  Zac Efron or New Direction (for you Americans, this is the latest boy band craze brought to us by X Factor – see how I bring this full circle? ;)), Americans really and truly think they feel this way.

And, there is something to be said for this youthful open and guileless sharing of emotion.  Not to discredit the benefit and maturity of being a little skeptical and cynical –not always taking things at face value.  

I think my challenge is to retain both – almost like going through cultural puberty.

So, back to being Texish. 

I am going to keep my margaritas like a good Texan, but, like a good Brit, I’ll have it with a grain of salt.