Issue link: https://read.dmtmag.com/i/84343
laugh I'm a Little Brit Country By Laura J. Gallagher " " My poor husband spends his vacation listening to me chuckle at random things and asking me what sketch from what British television show the random thing reminds me of. they'll ride up with wear," cracks me, and only me, up. Once, when I still worked in retail, a co-worker and I acted out an entire scene from "A Fish Called Wanda," to the amusement of some and the confusion of many. I collect tea cups, for God's sake. My anglophilia (anglophilosity? anglophilisation?) has gotten so Hello, I'm Laura, and I'm an Anglophile. Hi Laura! I've been one since I was a little kid. Like a lot of people here, my parents are to blame—specifically my mother, who was always watching British TV shows on PBS and reading books by people named "Dickens" and "Christie." Pretty common story, I guess. It wasn't like she encouraged me, or anything. It's just that she bad that I've spent thousands of dollars and travelled thousands of miles to feed my habit. My poor husband spends his vacation lis- tening to me chuckle at random things and asking me what sketch from what British television show the random thing reminds me of. Sometimes I hold the chuckle in, because I'm so ashamed that words like "Ibiza" or "Watney's Red Barrel" trigger a flashback. Not that I haven't infected Pat; when we were at The Worst Ho- tel Ever in London, he whispered to me, "Holy crap, I think we're staying at Fawlty Towers." We both marvel at how the saying that Britain and America are didn't stop me from joining her when she watched "Are You Being Served," or "No, Honestly." And she looked the other way when I'd borrow her P.G. Wodehouse compilations or sneak a listen to her Gilbert & Sullivan albums. Plus, she let me drink tea, which didn't help matters. It only grew worse as I got older. I fell in with a bunch of, what they called back then, "Theater Students," who were also into nerdy stuff like Doctor Who and Dungeons and Dragons. It wasn't long until I was spending my Friday nights as a "cleric" named "Chantal" and quoting "lines" from some show called "Monty Python's Flying Circus" that featured jokes about lunch meat, Vi- kings, flinging cats, storage jars, and slapping people with fish. It was all downhill from there. My first boyfriend led me even further astray. You've got to be a some kind of sick you-know-what to drag a 15-year-old girl to see a double-bill of "The Life of Brian" and "O Lucky Man" at the "arthouse" movie theater—on the east side of town, no less! No wonder my parents called him "a really nice kid," and asked him if he needed "money for pizza afterwards." Oh, wait … Anyway, here it is, more than three decades later. I've sung "Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam," more times than I can count. I spell "gray" "grey." I know who Reginald Maudling was. "I was kicking about to discourage the mice," and "don't worry about the sleeves, trying new foods, and of course I've jumped at the chance to try the foods I've heard mentioned on my favorite shows. I've eaten black pudding—voluntarily—and mushy peas. I think beans on toast is delicious and for the life of me cannot understand why that hasn't caught on here. What, is beans on toast somehow too gross for the land of the KFC Famous Bowl and the In-N-Out Double-Double? Or does it just not contain enough bacon? Maybe if it was deep- fried… We just got back from Ireland and Northern Ireland, and one two nations divided by a common language is true, and in very amusing ways. Our parking lot is their car park, our carryout is their takeaway. I love how each one makes perfect sense. I've already talked about my lack-of-qualms when it comes to of the specials at a restaurant at the Belfast International Airport, was, seriously, "Breakfast and a Pint" for eight pounds. The signs advertising it were professionally printed, like corporate sent them down and said "This is a thing." It was delicious. So the next time you shudder over black pudding while eating a hot dog, or mock Queen Elizabeth while reading about that chick from "Jersey Shore" who just had a baby or something, remember this: If it was good enough for the Beatles, it's good enough for you. Laura J. Gallagher is a long-time communications professional. When not teasing her husband, Triple M's Pat Gallagher, she is on Facebook at the Laura J. Gallagher page! ••• 80 BRAVA Magazine October 2012