Tuesday, November 15, 2005

15 November 2005

Two friends and I ventured to London for the weekend, primarily to see the beautiful Ewan McGregor live on stage in Guys and Dolls, but also to catch up with friends, hang out, and eat (what other reasons are there to travel?) Mr. McGregor lived up to all expectations, and we couldn’t help but pity his successor, who takes the stage in early December, and will have to struggle to charm the audience as easily as Ewan did.

It’s flu season, and countries around the world, especially in Europe, are urging citizens to get flu shots, both to prevent the regular flu, and to avoid unnecessary paranoia about bird flu in the event of a normal flu outbreak. In London, there are posters advertising free “flu jabs.” I don’t know if “jab” is supposed to sound less threatening or frightening than “shot,” but I don’t think it’s the best choice of words, as it really emphasizes the stabbing motion involved in getting a shot. Try again...

It was cold while we were there, and we were wearing sweaters, coats, hats, and scarves. However, the locals weren’t quite so bundled up; there were guys wearing t-shirts, and girls wearing miniskirts and tank tops, with nary a coat to be seen. When it’s summertime, a coat might not be necessary, even if the evening is a bit breezy, but if it’s November and the evening temperatures are below 40F, there is no way that it’s comfortable or healthy to wear a miniskirt and tank top without anything else. If you argue that it’s for aesthetic reasons, that, too, is fallacious, as there is little that is attractive about shivering, goose-bump-covered flesh that is usually sickly pale, but in the cold turns sickly blue.

After a late dinner on Saturday, we tried to catch a cab to my friend’s apartment, to no avail, and ended up waiting and walking for an hour. We ate in a central location, and my friend lives in a central location, so there really is no excuse for the lack of cabs. What kind of large city has neither official cabs nor gypsy cabs (or minicabs, as they call them in London) when there is a clear demand for late night transportation? The Tube shuts down early, and no one drives, so cabs and buses (which run on a sparse late night schedule) are the only options. I felt sorry for myself, walking home in the cold, and then felt sorrier for all the Londoners who didn't wear coats, and must have frozen solid en route. Notice to Londoners: get a free flu jab and wear a coat, especially if you stay out past midnight.

This past Sunday was Remembrance Sunday in England, commemorating the two World Wars. All of the major streets were shut down for a parade, and it was surreal walking through Parliament Square near Westminster without hundreds of cars zooming through the roundabouts. It was also an eye-opener to see how seriously they take the holiday, perhaps because the Wars were partly fought in English airspace and waters. I’ve never seen such mass public support for veterans of wars long gone, but then again, I come from a country that hasn’t fought a domestic battle in over two centuries. In the U.S., Memorial Day means cookouts and beaches, and Veterans Day is a random day off in November. We learn about wars in class, but we never acknowledge them in real life. In London, there were thousands of people wearing poppies that symbolize hope in the face of devastation (poppies bloomed in Flanders even during the heaviest fighting in WWI), shaking the hands of old veterans, leaving flowers, and generally showing that they care.

I am by no means a warmonger, and disapprove of all the monging of war that is going on these days, but I did find it touching to see how much people still cared about these men who, sixty years ago, were in the idealistic but bloody business of saving the world. Americans are brash, sarcastic, and future-minded, which often serves us well, but in some cases, in some situations, I think that it might serve us equally well to look to the past and have a little heart. We can still have cookouts on the beach, of course.

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