Anyone for some smoked pork butt?

The essentials in life

What my trip over to this side of the pond is showing me, is that it is not perhaps the Big Things that highlight the differences between the UK and the US, but the small things. It is the minutiae of life that highlights just how different these two countries are. Yes we speak the same language, and yes we rip off each other's TV shows (with minor tweaks, naturally: Jersey/Geordie Shore anyone? Can't wait to see a US version of The Valleys. All inflatable sheep shagging and wild hair, though on second thoughts, they may have already done that in  Duck Dynasty) citing similar audience preferences. And of course, lest we forget the 'Special Relationship' to which leaders on both side of the pond pay great heed. And by great heed I mean none whatsoever from the US side, and whiney, pleady, lets meet out the back for 2 minutes as the president takes a quick exit through the kitchens from the UK side. But it is the small things that delight, astound, intrigue  and sometimes purely disgust me, and none more so than at the US supermarket.

You see, American supermarkets are for me a thing of wonder. 'Fancy a trip to Shop Rite?' Dad bellows up the stairs as I scamper excitedly down. Yes Dad. Hell to the mega yes Dad. For American supermarkets are like some kind of twee, weird shopping nirvana for infantile curious minds like mine and I can spend hours getting lost in them. Take, for example the Ethnic Vegetable aisle. Not only does this aisle host a delight of culinary offerings from around the world, including from our fair British (ahem) Aisles, from HobNobs & Oxo cubes (neither vegetables, but let us not quibble here) to what I like to call 'proper tea', but also edible delights from China,

I'll have some cup cakes, with a side
portion of diabetes, thanks

 Thailand, Mexico and other assorted non red white and blue flag waving countries. However, I think my favourite discovery on this aisle is what I can only term Jesus candles. Yes, dear reader, apparently now a wax luminary featuring the face of Jeezy Creezy (sometimes with, sometimes without, dear Mama) is an edible foodstuff according to the supermarket aisle names, and a vegetable no less. Not sure I'd want them to be one of my 5 a day, but thanks Shop Rite for keeping me informed of the possibilities.

Gluten free?? I should hope so,
it's pork! 

Also, another thing that has struck me as somewhat odd is the concept of the glistening vegetable. Yes, that's right, I said glistening. You are reading this correctly. Let me explain…

The glistening greens, all freshly,
umm, glistened

Ok, so there I was, wanting some of me 5 a day that didn't include biblically inspired waxy offerings, hand outstretched for the finest broccoli head that the supermarket had on offer, when a sharp 'pssst' noise appeared from the aforementioned broccoli, and my hand was immediately drenched. I jumped back, exclaiming at said broccoli, more disturbed than in wonderment at the apparent ability of American vegetables to urinate over my hand unexpectedly (well, any vegetable urination is unexpected I guess, except maybe in courgettes, I wouldn't put anything past a courgette, even if it has been rechristened a zucchini. Awful vegetable.) Anyways, I soon figured out I had not been peed on by a vegetable, but instead been inadvertently sprayed by what I can only call 'the vegetable glistener'. What the holy heck I hear you cry (well, I don't, but I like to make up these imaginary reader voices in my head sometimes, and trust me dear reader, you are VERY well spoken) yes, that's right, a VEGETABLE GLISTENER! 

Mmm, they sure know how to sell it!

You see, in the US they like to spray their vegetables. Not in the field, though am sure that happens too, but right there in the shop! For why, I do not know, I could only think keep them shiny and glossy? One bright & generous yank said its to stop them from drying out, but really? Have never seen a dried out husk of a parsnip down my local Sainsburys but perhaps I am just fortunate. Quite besides the point that it gives ignoramuses like me a shock, making them think they've been peed on by a rogue cabbage, its pretty grim, surely it makes them all, well, soggy? And no one wants a soggy iceberg. It just becomes a sogberg, prone to dispensing that unfortunate salad slime one gets after leaving them in the fridge past their eat by date. And no one wants that. So be warned dear reader, and take not the fright that I did. Learn this, peeing vegetables are unlikely, but a soggy bunch of coriander (ok, cilantro if I must) is far more probable. Ugh!

Fish AND Poop? Lucky me!

And speaking of ugh! Trust me, there is a vast range of 'UGH' on offer. Yes, America is the land of the plenty, and after visiting one of these stores, don't you know it. And this can be a wonderful thing indeed. They have one aisle dedicated solely to 2 thousand slightly varied flavours of crisps (ok chips, since I'm here) and another dedicated just to the essentials in life (beer & water since you asked), there is almost everything you could wish for in this temple of gluttony, but plenty you wouldn't as well. 

Time for a grandma smackdown

Pickled pig feet? CHECK! Fish and Poop?? CHECK!! Actually that is a check, but I have no idea what it was, only got close enough to take the picture before running away, gakking.  Hot chocolate mix as promoted by a grandma who also looks like she has a successful sideline in contract killing? CHECK! A table covered in gaudy, implausibly coloured cakes that will either give you a rash or a serious case of the diabetes? CHECK!


Smoked pork butt? CHECK! (in other news, more gakking). There really is something for everyone here, which I guess is kinda the point after all. Because, whether you're into prostrating yourself before a waxy deity, or chowing down on a pig's derriere, then an American supermarket really is the place to be. Just don't forget to bring your umbrella for the vegetable aisle.

On a wing and a prayer

Bible number plate anyone?

So there I was, sat in Atlanta airport, waiting for my connecting flight to Charlotte. So, basically South, I think we can agree South. And what do we associate the South with? Well, Southern charm, natch, but also guns, grits, and religion. Big Religion, with a capital Big. And my trip to the South certainly didn't disappoint on these fronts…. I saw grits aplenty (never tried any though, am not a fan of anything that has the consistency and appearance of baby sick – understandable I think you’ll agree), I saw guns on sale in Target, and the religion. Oh the religion. From bible quoting T-shirts, to number plates praising The Lord (and we're not talking Dr Who here) to canned bells blaring out from the local church (I tells ya, Yamaha’s best 'church bells' rendition of How Great Thou Art definitely veers more towards grating than it’s homophonic partner in musical crime) you can certainly tell how the Bible Belt got it's name. 

But I digress a little, back to the geography...  So there I was in The South. Waiting in Atlanta airport for a flight down to Charlotte to be precise. It was typical airport fare. There were fast food outlets, there were those NBC News shops who seem to have a better line in nut based snacks than actual news, there were those places selling neck pillows and luggage (on another point, who actually buys luggage at the airport? Its a worldwide theme I've noticed but surely any sensible person will have all the luggage they need by the time they have cleared security, after all, what else would they be carrying their stuff in? An eternal question in travel I think you’ll agree) but what I was not expecting was the upcoming tannoy announcement:  "at 12.30, there will be Christian service held in chapel, all travellers are welcome to attend".  It was Easter Sunday so I guess I coulda expected it, but the mention of God before one flies does make me a little nervous. But I guess it's Easter, and this is a God-lovving, jeezy chreezy praising, thank The Lord endorsin kinda part of the world. So, despite feeling a little uncomfortable at the imposition of religion upon my otherwise ungodly journey, I let it pass, thought no more, boarded my plane, and flew on. 

Who doesn't love a bible quoting t-shirt?
The North, that's who.

Cut to 2 weeks later. This time flying back up North, having had a fantabulous time, with the exception of a mild fear of tornadoes (see previous blog for more hysterical ramblings) & an increased disregard for baby sick foods. So I am sat in an airport again (I really should be getting rewards points for all of this, oh the regrets of a dithering traveller), back in Charlotte, homeward bound, and what do I hear over the tannoy? "there will be a 30 minute scripture and prayer service in the chapel in half an hour". 

The way to Chapel, or Lisa Simpson giving... *

*Dated 2012 Olympics reference

Now this was not an Easter Sunday, granted this was a Sunday,  but just an ordinary Sunday. You know, just a standard Antiques Roadshow watching, time to do me washing, do I really have to go back to work tomorrow (I didn't but that's neither here nor there) kinda day.  But by now all this prayerising was making me nervous, I started asking myself, what do THEY know about flying that I don't? Do I need all these godly charged planes? Is all this implorement to an all powerful deity to necessitate landing intact at the other end strictly necessary? Do Delta airlines use more grace than gravity in staying airborne? I dread to think, but as much as I dreaded, being British, I just got on with things, picked up my hand luggage, boarded and flew back to Atlanta for my connecting flight whereupon.... yes you've guessed it, ANOTHER BLOODY TANNOY! More praying! More godliness! More invitations to bleedin Jeezy Chreezy worshipping, bible toting services. I was getting rather annoyed by this, after all, one does not need reminding of 'im upstairs, if indeed there is a 'im upstairs at all (which frankly, am a bit dubious about a doubt which I suppose is de rigueur having graduated from a Catholic school secondary education). SO where was I? Ah yes, one doesn’t need god before boarding a craft which one understands just about as much as a Hogwarts broomstick. Unnecessary and unnerving it is, for non God botherers like myself, and then it struck me, I remembered, had felt this before...

Atlanta airport chapel.
Look, they even have a rosette!

When flying to the far oft lands of 'Down Under' several years ago, I flew Royal Brunei, after all, they were cheap and cheerful and these were values I rated mostest when booking a 24 hour flight. And just so *nods*. And when flying with the aforementioned airline, I remembered that each time, before we took off and landed (there was much taking off and landing with 4 stops - I know. 4. Hence the cheap and cheerfulness of it right?) there was a prayer on board, both on tannoy and on screen, interrupting the in flight entertainment services much to my frustration. And then the prayers then didn't make me any less uneasy either. Especially after 4 legs worth of it.  As I may have established above, am not really at one with the prayer, especially in what some might to be a relatively high risk, how did happen, why does it stay up in the air, no idea kinda situation. 

So all of this praying brought an issue to the fore in my mind. Not so much why the need, but actually, what's the difference? There is much made in 'The West' of the difference between Islam and Christianity. Whether it's Daily Mail below the line commenters gibbering about Islamic plots, or tea partyists bellowing that THERE WILL BE NO MOSQUE BUILT AT GROUND ZERO *firmly shaking fists into Fox News cameras*. But really, there is very little difference in it all, or by the same argument, there are a lot of similarities. Whether your 'im upstairs is Allah or God, fundamentalists & extremists of whatever religious persuasion are more alike than they probably care to admit. I like to think I have a perspective of note here, after all I am a Londonder, and have had my home town exploded by those doing awful things in the name of both ends of the religious spectrum.


So the upshot? The conclusion that I am stumbling, cack handedly towards? Well, the fact that the world is full of mad extremist people of many different persuasions is a given. But bar that, the only other real conclusion I can draw is that following Alaska Airlines abandonment in 2012 of their 'prayer cards' at mealtime policy, it looks like I'm in for a lot of chilly holidays. So I'm off to pack my snow boots & thermal pants. Farewell for now dear reader, I'll say hello to Sarah Palin if I see her, and of course, send Russia some love (I won't really...  I remember Sochi).

Nuff said