Tag Archives: Bigotry

A Wild Garden Can Be A Lovely Garden (An Allegory)

5 Aug

Quite an unsettling afternoon at the Garden Club!

Today we were to vote on the first round of the Lovely Garden Competition. We had a record-breaking twenty-three entrants, I’m happy to report. However, the one at the bottom of the Close was described, on its application and by the judges, as a “wild garden,” which drew the immediate wrath of the other ladies (and one gentleman) on the committee. The edict was to eliminate it from the contest. I confess, troublemaker that I am, I felt compelled to question this stance.

I was told that a Lovely Garden must be planned and manicured—it must be controlled, not wild. When I asked why, one woman nearly fainted with shock and disgust:  “Because that is how it always has been! This contest has been running for over fifty years. Those are the rules that we follow, and you know that, Miss Agatha!”

I can relieve your minds that I did not rise to such bait. Instead I calmly made my case.

“Is it not true, Mrs Tartuffe, that when the Lovely Garden competition started, the Club President banned all gardens that grew Edelweiss?”

“Yes. Mrs Smith’s father had been killed in the war and she was worried about associating with anything German.”

“And do you suggest that we begin banning Edelweiss again because anyone growing it is most certainly a Nazi?”

“Don’t be silly,” she retorted. (Note: I was not unaware that her own garden exhibited said flower.)

“And is it not true that in the 1980s, both bachelors and those who grew pansies were excluded from the competition?”

“I am afraid so,” she said, shamefacedly.

“And do you know why?”

“Yes, we all know why.”

“And do you suggest that we now exclude any gardeners of the homosexual persuasion?” I knew this would drive home the point as her very own son, a practitioner of man-on-man love, was hoping to take home the blue ribbon this year. Her red face provided her answer.

“So when you look back on the Club’s past,” I said,  “you can see rules or policies that now seem just a little bit ridiculous. My question to you is this: in 2052, when the Club Contest Committee meets to look at applicants, how will they view our ban on wild gardens? Will they say, yes, that’s entirely sensible, or will they see our ignorance and bigotry the same way we see Mrs Smith’s or Reverend Lance’s? If you do not rate the wild garden, do not award it points. However, should we deny this young man” (who looks quite fetching in his gardening gear) “a chance? Should we deny him his right to participate just because his beliefs about gardens differ from yours? Thinking of those gardeners of the future, which side of history would you prefer to be on?”

I am pleased to say that the wild garden will be considered for this year’s honour. Hurrah for the triumph over close-mindedness! And if the young, wild gardener on Blackbird Close is reading this, I would be happy to join you for tea amongst your Tufted Vetch and Creeping Thistle anytime.

Divided By A Common Language, Part One

1 Feb

It’s time.

Despite being an internationally respected woman and writer, I still get some grief about “speaking American.” Guess what? I’m American so, to those people I say, duh. But I’m British, too, so I also say fuck off, you twat.

However, in the spirit of being more welcoming, I’ve decided to supply a British-American dictionary for my less worldly readers. Here’s the first section.

But I’m telling you right now: I don’t want any quibbles. I don’t speak for all Americans. I don’t speak for all Brits. I only speak for myself: Agatha Whitt-Wellington. Got it?

A

Abattoir:  Slaughterhouse
Abseiling:  Rappeling
Abroad:  Overseas
Accelerator:  Gas pedal
Action Man:  G.I. Joe
Accumulator (bet): Parlay
Advert:  Commercial
A&E, casualty:  ER (emergency room)
Aerial:  Antenna
Aeroplane: Airplane
Alight: Get off
Aluminium: Aluminum
Alsatian:  German Shepherd
Angry: Mad, pissed off
Anti-clockwise: Counter-clockwise
Articulated lorry, juggernaut: Semi, tractor trailer, big rig, 18-wheeler
Arse:  Ass
Athletics: Track and field
Aubergine:  Eggplant
Automatic (car): Standard
Autumn:  Fall

B

Backhander: Kickback
Bagsie: Dibs
Balaclava:  Ski mask
Bang to rights: Dead to rights
Bank holiday: National holiday
Bap, cob: Hamburger bun
Barrister:  Trial lawyer
Bath: Bathtub
Bedsit: Studio apartment
Beefburger:  Hamburger
Beermat: Coaster
Behind: In back of
Benefits:  Welfare
Bespoke:  Tailor made, custom made
Bill: Check
Bin: Wastebasket, garbage can, trash can
Bin liner: Garbage bag, trash bag
Biro: Pen
Biscuits: Cookies
Bloke, chap, lad: Man, guy
Bogie, bogey: Booger
Boiled sweets: Hard candy
Bonnet: Hood
Booking: Reservation
Boot:  Trunk
Bottle: Moxie
Braces:  Suspenders
Break (school): Recess
Boiler (central heating): Furnace
Box (men’s athletic protection): Cup
Bum bag: Fanny pack
Bungalow: Single-storey house
Bum: Butt, booty, fanny
Burgle: Burglarize

C

Call box: Phone booth
Candy floss: Cotton candy
Car park: Parking lot
Canteen: Cafeteria
Caravan: Trailer, camper, RV
Caretaker: Janitor
Car boot sale: Yard/garage sale
Car side lights: Parking lights
Car wing: Fender
Catapult:  Sling-shot
Cellar: Basement
Cheeky: Ornery (cheeky monkey=ornery critter)
Chemist: Pharmacy, drugstore
Cheque: Check
Chips: French fries
Chuffed: Happy
City centre: Downtown
Cladding: Siding
Clean your teeth:  Brush your teeth
Cling film: plastic wrap, Saran wrap™
Coach: Bus, Greyhound™
Condom: Rubber
Consultant doctor:  Specialist
Cooker: Oven, stove
Coriander: Cilantro
Cotton: Thread
Cotton bud: Q-Tip™
Cotton wool: Cotton balls
Courgette:  Zucchini
Crash (a car): Wreck (used as a verb and noun)
Crisps: Potato chips
Crumpet: English muffin
Current account:  Checking account  

D

Daddy long legs: Crane fly
Daft, thick:  Stupid, dumb
Diagonal: Catacorner
Digger: Backhoe
Dinner jacket:  Tuxedo
Diversion: Detour
Doctor’s surgery: Doctor’s office
Dodgems: Bumper cars
Draughts:  Checkers
Drawing pin: Tack
Dressing gown: Robe
Dual-carriageway: Divided highway
Dummy: Pacifier, binky
Dustbin: Trash can
Dustcart: Garbage truck
Dustman: Garbage man
Duvet:  Comforter

E

Engaged (phone): Busy
Estate (inner city):  The projects
Estate (area of new houses): Sub-division
Estate (car): Station wagon
Estate agent: Real estate agent
Ex-directory: Unlisted

F

Fag: Cigarette
Fag end: Cigarette butt
Fairy cake:  Cupcake
Fairy lights:  Christmas lights
Fancy: Like
Fancy dress party: Costume party
Fanny: Pussy (sounds somewhat cruder, doesn’t it?)
Father Christmas: Santa Claus
Fire brigade: Fire department
First, second, third, fourth year (at university & high school): Freshman, sophomore, junior, senior
Fishfingers:  Fishsticks
Flannel: Washcloth
Flask: Thermos
Flat:  Apartment
Flyover:  Overpass
Football:  Soccer
Football boots:  Cleats
Footpath: Trail
Freephone: Toll-free
Fringe: Bangs
Frying pan: Skillet
Full stop:  Period

G

Gammon: Ham steak
Gangway: Aisle
Garden: Yard
Gear stick (car): Stick shift
Gherkin:  Pickle
Give way:  Yield
Gear lever:  Gear shift
Glove box: Glove compartment
Gobsmacked: Surprised
Goose pimples: Goose bumps
Grease-proof paper:  Waxed paper
Green fingers: Green thumb
Grill: Broil
Ground floor: First floor

H

Hair slide: Barrette
Hand bag: Purse
Hand brake: Parking brake
Hash (#): Pound sign
Headmaster / mistress:  Principal
Hen night:  Bachelorette party    
High Street:  Main Street
Hire: Rent
Hob: Stovetop
Holiday: Vacation
Homely: Homey (homely actually means ugly, so watch yourself)
Hosepipe: Hose
Hundreds and thousands: Sprinkles

I

Iced lolly:  Popsicle™
Icing sugar: Powdered sugar
Identity parade: Police line-up
Indicators (car):  Turn signals
Inverted commas: Quotemarks

J

Jacket potato:  Baked potato
Jam:  Jelly (as in peanut butter and jelly sandwiches)
Jelly:  Jell-O™
Joiner:  Carpenter
Jumper:  Sweater
Jump leads: Jumper cables
Junction (motorway): Exit

K

Kit (sports, camera, etc.):  Gear
Kitchen roll: Paper towels
Knickers:  Panties, underwear
Knuckle dusters:  Brass knuckles

L

Ladder (tights): Run
Ladybird:  Ladybug
Lager:  Beer
Launderette:  Laundromat
Lay-by:  Rest area
Lead (dog):  Leash
Leads (electrical): Cords
Lemonade: 7-Up™, Sprite™
Let: Rent
Letter box: Mail box
Level crossing: Railroad crossing
Lie-in: Sleep-in
Lift: Elevator
Lift (give someone a lift): Ride
Lodger: Boarder
Loo, Toilet: Bathroom, restroom
Loogie: Goober, hocker (goobers are also chocolate covered peanuts)
Loft: Attic
Lollipop: Lollipop, sucker
Lollipop lady:  Crossing guard
Lorry: Truck
Lorry driver: Truck driver, trucker
Lot (material items): Bunch
Lounge, sitting room: Living room.
Love bite: Hickey

M

Manager (sports): Coach
Managing director:  CEO (Chief Executive Officer)
Mange tout: Snow peas
Mannequin: Dummy
Manual (car): Stick, stick shift
Mate: Friend, buddy, pal, chum
Maths: Math
Megaphone: Bullhorn
Mileometer:  Odometer
Mince (meat): Ground meat
Mobile library: Bookmobile
Mobile phone:  Cell phone, cellular phone
Motorway: Highway, expressway
Mum:  Mom
 

To be continued….

Divided By A Common Language, Part Two

31 Jan

N

Nappy: Diaper
National: Federal
National Insurance number: Social Security number
Newsagent: Newsstand
Newsreader:  Anchorman, anchorwoman
Nick (verb): Steal, rob
Nick (noun): Prison, state pen, slammer, big house
Nil: Nothing, zero
Nought: Zero
Noughts and Crosses: Tic-Tac-Toe
Note (money): Bill
Number plates: License plates

O

OAP: Senior citizen
Off-licence: Liquor store (also available as a drive-thru)
Off-roader: SUV (sport utility vehicle)
Off-the-peg: Off-the-rack
Operating theatre: Operating room
Overtake: Pass

P

Pants (y fronts): Underwear, briefs, shorts
Paraffin: Kerosene
Parking brake: Emergency brake
Patience (card game): Solitaire
Pavement:  Sidewalk
Pay in: Deposit
Pay packet: Pay check
Pay rise: Pay raise
P.C. (Police Constable): Police Officer
P.E. class: Gym class
Pelican, zebra crossings: Pedestrian crossing
Petrol:  Gas
Piles: Hemorrhoids
Pitch (sports):  Field
Plait (hair): Braid
Plaster (bandage):  Band-Aid™
Plaster (walls): Drywall
P.M.T.: P.M.S. (it’s a proper syndrome in America, not just a bit of tension)
Pocket money (child’s):  Allowance
Poorly:  Sick
Pop socks: Knee-high’s
Post: Mail
Post box: Mailbox  (flag up to indicate you have something to be picked up)       
Post code: Zip code
Post-Mortem: Autopsy
Potholing, caving:  Spelunking
Powercut: Power outage
Pram:  baby carriage, buggy
Prawn: Shrimp
Press-up:  Push-Up
Pressurise: Pressure
Propstand (push bike): Kickstand
Pub: Bar
Public school: Private school
Pudding, sweets, afters:  Dessert
Pull: Pick up, score
Puncture (tyre): Flat
Pushchair:  Stroller
Push bike: Bike, bicycle

Q

Queue: Line
Quid: Buck (slang for a dollar)

R

Randy: Horny
Rasher (bacon):  Slice
Redundant: Laid-off
Register: Roster
Return (journey): Round-trip
Reverse (a car, etc.):  Back up
Reverse charges: Collect call
Revision: Study, cram
Ring (on phone):  Call
Roadworks: Construction
Rocket (vegetable): Arugula
Roundabout: Traffic island
Row: Argue, fight, quarrel
Rubber:  Eraser
Rubbish (refuse): Garbage, trash
Rude: Risqué

S

Sack (get the sack): Fired
S.A.E:  S.A.S.E (self addressed stamped envelope)
Saloon (car):  Sedan
Sand pit (children’s):  Sand box
Sello™ tape: Scotch™ tape
Semi-detached: Duplex
Semi-skimmed milk:  Lowfat, 2% milk
Serviette: Napkin
Settee:  Sofa, couch
Shaving foam:  Shaving cream
Shop:  Store
Shopping trolley:  Shopping cart
Silencer (car):  Muffler
Single ticket:  One-way
Solicitor: Lawyer, attorney
Sorbet:  Sherbert
Skint: Broke
Skip: Dumpster
Skive: Play hooky
Sledge:  Sled
Sleeper (rail):  Railway tie
Slip road: On-ramp, off-ramp
Slowcoach:  Slowpoke
Smock (dress): Jumper
Snog: Make out
Spanner: Wrench
Spirits: Liquor
Stabilisers (child’s bike): Training wheels
Stag night: Bachelor party
Starter: Appetizer
Static caravan: Mobile home
Strop, wobbly: Hissy fit   
Study: Den
Sub-contract: Outsource
Supply teacher: Substitute teacher
Surname: Last name
Suspenders:  Garter belt
Swear: Cuss
Swede:  Rutabaga
Sweets:  Candy
Swimming costume: Swim suit, swimming trunks, bathing suit

T

Takeaway:  Takeout
Tannoy: Loudspeaker
Tap: Faucet, spigot
Tarmac: Pavement, asphalt, blacktop
Teat (baby bottle): Nipple
Tea towel: Dish towel
Telly: TV
Tetchy: Touchy
Thousand million: Billion
Tick: Check, checkmark
Ten-pin bowling: Bowling
Till: Cash register
Tin (of food):  Can
Tip:  Dump
Tipp-X™: Wite-out™ 
Toilet, loo: Bathroom, restroom, john
Toilet roll: Toilet paper
Torch: Flashlight
Touch wood: knock on wood
Tout (tickets): Scalp
Towbar: Trailer hitch
Trainers: Sneakers, tennis shoes
Tramp: Bum, hobo
Treacle: Molasses
Trousers: Pants, trousers
Tumble dryer: Dryer 

V

VAT:  Sales tax
Verucca: Plantar wart
Vest: Tank top
Video: VCR

W

Waistcoat:  Vest
Walking (country): Hiking
Wardrobe:  Closet
Washing up: Dishwashing
Wellies: Rubber boots, galoshes
Whinge: Whine
Windcheater: Windbreaker
Windscreen: Windshield
Whatsit: Doohickey, thingamabob
Write-off (car): Total

Z

Zebra crossing, pelican crossing: Crosswalk
Zimmerframe: Walker
Zip: Zipper
 

Some of these words are familiar to my readers, whether they are British or American or Other. I don’t doubt you’ve heard many of them on television or in films. So why, may I ask, is it so difficult for you to understand them when they come out of my mouth? Well, you can plead ignorance no more. Thanks to the time and effort I’ve taken to enlighten both my countries’ citizens, I’m certain that US/UK relations will improve.

And as we say in all types of English, you’re welcome.

Halloween: We Fear What We Don’t Understand

27 Oct

Here is something I know: in England the current connotation of the word Halloween is “another American concept that is slowly destroying the world via our children’s innocence.”

Here is something you know: I am very clever and generally understand things better than you do.

Therefore, in the spirit of John 8:32, I would like to enlighten you to some truths about the Halloween holiday so that you shall be set free from your misconceptions. While the practices of the holiday should be limited to children, the theories behind it provide some good moral lessons we’d all do well to remember.

COSTUMES

Adults wear costumes (yes, of course, I’m talking about fancy dress, don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean) to escape their own mundane existence and live someone else’s life for an evening (although why people think slutty nurses’ lives are so fascinating is beyond me).

However, for American children, costumes serve an educational purpose; they’re used to introduce them to different career options. By the time American children reach puberty, they have already had first hand experience in a number of fields: medical, law enforcement, construction, super-heroism and witchcraft. Another benefit of children’s costumes is that they should be homemade. Homemade costumes are economical; support recycling (for at least a decade in America, all pantyhose were sold in plastic eggs, yet you never saw one of these in the landfills because they were ever so crafty); and encourage ingenuity within a family, forcing children and parents to discover new purposes within objects (I once wore Mason jar bands as earrings for my fortune teller costume, don’t tell me that’s not creative).

Sadly, families today often feel that they just don’t have the time to devote to the traditional costume-making process. Purchasing a costume loses some of the true meaning of Halloween; however, if it has to be done, the only appropriate option is a boxed costume which contains a highly flammable, colourful smock-type outfit and a plastic face with eyeholes and a thin, easily snappable piece of elastic to secure it to the head.

TRICK-OR-TREATING

Trick-or-treating is not begging. It’s actually an ancient form of barter: when you give a child a “treat,” you are actually paying for the entertainment they have provided you by making you feel frightened, amused or vaguely confused. Trick-or-treating in America is organized; there’s a single night chosen and if you don’t want to participate you just turn your porch light off. The “trick” part of the name is often interpreted as a threat, but this is incorrect. Despite what the horror films tell you, there are actually no recorded incidents of any mischief, criminal or otherwise, around Halloween on the books of any single American police station. Fact. Being scared, though, is part of the holiday’s tradition: ultimately, it’s a lesson in mortality and the sooner a child learns of his impending death, the happier the child will be, I always say.

Treats are generally candy, partly because sweets are enjoyed by most people and partly simply because they come individually wrapped. Years ago there was an urban legend that strangers were sticking razor blades in apples and contaminating cookies, so parents feel safer when a child comes home with individually wrapped candies–though, of course, a hypothermic needle could easily be used to inject candy through its wrapper without raising any suspicion (would-be poisoners should ignore this remark).

The candy most associated with Halloween is candy corn. To eat candy corn, you are required to bite off, chew and swallow the white bits and then discard the rest in the nearest bin. A little wasteful, yes, but it’s the law.

JACK O’LANTERNS

These days, there’s a real art to pumpkin carving. I myself prefer the traditional Jack O’Lantern face—circle eyes, triangle nose and the toothy grin. Carving even this relatively easy design is a great way to develop dexterity and knife-handling skills. The inside of the pumpkin is then frozen to be baked into Thanksgiving pumpkin pies and the seeds are roasted for a nutritional snack. In the carved pumpkins, you place a candle. You do this because it looks nice. Carving pumpkins is just nice, okay? Doesn’t niceness matter anymore?

Ultimately, I don’t care if you like Halloween. Support it or don’t, it’s no skin off my nose. However, if you decide you don’t want to be a part of it, keep your anti-American sentiment out of it. Halloween was an important part of my childhood; don’t let your ignorance try to taint my memory. If you find any of these meaningful traditions interesting enough to adopt in your own lives, I am happy to provide you with additional suggestions, costume designs and recipes. However, I request that you please ask your children not to come round my house during Corrie.  Halloween or not, that’s really annoying.