Britishisms

Everybody Knows Somebody Else

Wed, 02 Dec 2009 08:15:00 -0500

Funny thing happens when you announce that you’re in the process of immigrating: you find out that almost everyone you know knows someone that immigrated at some point. All sorts of brothers, cousins, and friends come out of the woodwork. I’ve had the e-mail address or phone number of some common soul pushed on me no less than 5 different times, I think.

It’s not that I object to this profferance of help — quite the contrary, I deeply appreciate the thought — it’s just that it’s not actually very helpful. To immigrate, broadly, is to move to another country, and that’s about the extent of the majority’s understanding (mine too, until it became pertinent to know more). Based on recent reactions, most, too, seem to think that all one must do is marry to gain legal residence in a new country.

This is one of those things where someone that thinks they know what they’re talking about says “Apple computers are way-overpriced, you’re better off with this Dell laptop,” and you spend the next half an hour telling them why they’re a) wrong, b) an idiot (and their friend has to buy a new laptop within a year). I call it an assumption of knowledge (as, I’m sure, do many others; I doubt I’m the first to observe something like this): you know a thing or two about computers, so you assume you are qualified to comment on Apples, making no effort to learn any of the specifics of Apple. Similarly, you know someone that immigrated once, so now you know all about it. Enough to recommend someone that immigrated by way of an employment visa to someone that is immigrating by way of a spousal visa, anyway, which is of just about no use to me, since there is almost no commonality in the two processes.

I never make a big deal of it. I accept the phone number, smile, and go about my business. Of the phone numbers and e-mail addresses I’ve been given, so far only one of them is similar enough to my situation that I might actually contact them. The rest, never. But for some reason, the people that gave you those details get very offended. “Have you called James yet?” “No, I don’t think he’d actually be very helpful.” “Why on earth not? He immigrated too.” “In a totally different way.” “So what? It’s the same basic thing.” “Not really.” “Well, bugger you then, I was just trying to help.”

See? I’m sure there’s a more tactful way to handle it, but I don’t see why I should have to devise it. This person has nothing to offer me, I’m not going to call him.

And, really, someone’s personal account of their immigration — even if they’re pursuing the exact same visa — isn’t particularly helpful. Yes, they immigrated, no, they are not now experts. The immigration process is almost random: there are tons of forms, all with cryptic acronym names, ridiculous fees that aren’t made immediately obvious anywhere, various stages in the process where something could happen and derail the whole thing, at least two interviews, even more fees and forms and waiting. And who knows what else. Thing is: even within the same kind of visa, everyone’s path through the process is different. One particular form could take longer than someone else’s to process — I have read accounts of the process of applying for the visa I want taking between 6 months and 3 years — you might have to resend a form, forget to include something, miss a field, and so on and so on. If you want to talk to someone about the process, you are better off going to an immigration lawyer, not your Mother’s husband’s brother’s best friend.

That said, there is definitely some value in hearing someone else’s personal experience (assuming they pursued the same visa), but only in the sense that it will help you understand what to expect. And, for that reason, I am grateful if someone can put me in touch with someone in a similar position. But “someone that immigrated too” is a little vague to be of use to me.

As I say, I’m deeply grateful for the thought, this just isn’t very helpful, I’m afraid.

As you might gather from this post: we are, at last, in a position where we are starting to think about the actual immigration process. And that, at the very least, is wonderful. I’m sure this won’t be the last time I mention it.

The large majority of my posts here have been documenting...

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 12:24:00 -0500

Getting the marriage license

The moment her back's turned

Hare Krishna supervises

We swear all of this is info is true

Another couple getting married

Heather's boss, and our photographer

"I do"

Group photo

Game face

The rings

The large majority of my posts here have been documenting notable differences I’ve observed between the US and the UK. As interesting as that is (to me, at least), I’d much rather be writing about the progress of my emigration. Sadly, we haven’t been able to make a great deal of progress for a while. That changed on Friday, when we made one of the biggest steps: we got married.

The whole experience was rather surreal and unexpected, not to mention modest. We got up at 7:30am and went to apply for a marriage license, and the same day, got married by a judge in a court room usually reserved for small claims hearings. It wasn’t at all what either of us imagined our wedding day being like, but I think we both agree that’s not at all a bad thing. We’ll definitely have some pretty fun wedding day stories to tell, like the old man that was there marrying some 18 year old blimp of a girl.

The judge was super nice, and the whole thing took less than 10 minutes. We both said “I do,” kissed, cried, and got out of there, a couple of very happy newlyweds.

Two of Heather’s friends came along to witness it (though that wasn’t a requirement), which means we have the signatures of Heather’s German boss and a “Hare Krishna” on our marriage certificate. Both of us find this endlessly amusing.

The photos we got aren’t great (we even accidentally left timestamps on!), but we don’t mind: it was a fairly modest affair, and we captured the moments that matter.

We’ll renew our vows once I’m legal in the US and have a proper ceremony, with better photos.

As far as my eventual permanent move here goes, our next step is to apply for the visa. That’s where it’s going to start getting expensive, confusing, and stressful. And once applied, the paperwork will still take around a year to go through, so we’re still in the very early stages. For now, I have 2 weeks left before I have to return to England.

But I’ll be getting back to my wife as soon as I can. Hopefully for good.

Also, we really want to thank everyone that’s said nice things to us — on Tumblr, on Twitter, and in e-mail — it felt really great to see so many people happy for us.

Here are a couple more marriage-related things:

I made this for Heather as a wedding present
Our marriage license receipt will make me smile every time I see it, thanks to my ridiculous name
I also became an Uncle this weekend
The music blog I write played a big part in our relationship, so, naturally, I posted our song and said a few words about it

American Football

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 14:47:00 -0500

This isn’t going to happen very often: I’m going to talk about sports for a minute. I’m not a big sports fan: I used to enjoy watching soccer periodically, and I played rugby for a while, but for the most part: nope, not into sports. I’ll watch the big games — finals, playoffs, etc — sometimes, but for the most part, I just don’t care unless I have some personal attachment — like a friend of mine when I lived in Wales getting invited to play for the national team in a friendly game.

I watched part of an American football game last night and my stance remains the same, but there are some observations to be made.

For the record, it was the Indianapolis Colts vs the New England Patriots. I only watched around 15 minutes of the 4th quarter, but I think anyone else that watched it will agree that I saw the best bit: the Colts coming back from a 17 point deficit to win the whole thing by a single point, in the space of about 5 minutes of play. It was incredibly exciting, and very suspenseful as the clock ticked down to zero.

The most obvious thing to note, for me, is how confusing I find the sport. I have a vague notion of the rules, courtesy of one reading of the Wikipedia page for American Football, but still found it fairly confusing to watch — particularly the concept of “downs.” I figure it’s something you get used to and learn over time, but it struck me that I never had that problem with football in Britain (soccer). From the first game I watched, I knew more or less what was going on. The rules are much, much simpler (as in anything, there are some vagaries and more complex rules to consider, but only for the serious fan), and it’s much easier just to watch.

It’s basically 11 men trying to kick a ball into a goal, while keeping it inside the white lines. American Football can be summarised just as succinctly — a bunch of men trying to throw a ball to the end of the field — but there’s a lot more in between, and a lot more details that matter.

I know enough to enjoy a game — which is all that matters, really — just not enough to avoid being occasionally confused.

Another thing is the sponsoring. Sponsoring stuff is out of fucking control in the US, and sports are no exception. The stadium is sponsored — the Lucas Oil Stadium, in the case of the Colts — the uniforms are sponsored, as is every single other piece of clothing the players, managers, coaches, and anyone within ten feet of the aforementioned wears, along with the equipment (coaches’ walkie talkies, for instance), and the broadcast. Ad slots during a game, too, are highly sought, and very expensive.

That’s not all that different from British football, really, but the Americans have a level of audacity that I just find shocking. Naming your stadium after a sponsor is shameless, and there is scarcely a second during a televised game where someone’s logo isn’t visible.

I don’t even want to think about the amount of money being spent on this game. I’m sure it absolutely dwarfs whatever the Brits are spending.

One other miscellaneous observation: they give players ratings. Fucking ratings. During last night’s game, NBC flashed up a graphic of each team’s quarterback, showing statistics like attempted and completed passes, yards thrown, and so on, and finally, a rating for each player. What is this, top trumps?

And that seems like a rather uniquely American thing to do. As does sponsoring the hell out of every available inch of pitch, uniform, and television screen. As does having scantily-clad cheerleaders breaking up the monotony. As does 22 fully-grown men running around a 360-foot field beating the shit out of each other. (Not to say that football is without its strategy, because it has a lot more than British football does, which I appreciate.)

This all sounds rather negative, but it shouldn’t. Yes, America is a little out of control in some respects, and yes, a ridiculous amount of money is spent on sport, but American football is a superbly exciting game and it’s pretty hard to completely dismiss something that engenders so much compassion, and (mostly) friendly competition. And it’s much the same deal in Britain.

I’m still not particularly interested in American football, but I find it a lot more interesting than soccer.

“They can’t be that different, they’re called...

Mon, 12 Oct 2009 08:57:07 -0400

“They can’t be that different, they’re called the same thing!”

For your convenience: waffles, muffins, and biscuits, in the US and England.

I did take a few liberties with this, in the interest of making an awesome graphic:

The “England” header should probably say UK, but Ireland, Scotland, and Wales have their own delicacies, and I’m not sure how they conflict with these definitions. Playing it safe.
The British waffle is potato, and is generally eaten with sausages or bacon or baked beans (or all three!). (Baked beans, by the way, are not supposed to have brown sugar in them, you awful people.) Waffle is actually interchangeable and can mean either a potato waffle or a sweet waffle in England, but if someone says “waffle” they usually mean the potato kind.
The American muffin is technically called an English muffin, which is equal parts ironic, ridiculous, and confusing. Muffin is also interchangeable in the US, and possibly in England (I’m sure we have English muffins like you guys, but I’d never eaten one before now).
The American biscuit looks awful, and I do not ever want to eat one. What I call a biscuit, Americans call a cookie or a cracker. American cookies are also fairly common in the UK.

Images stolen from Wikipedia, mostly.

On Killing Myself

Thu, 01 Oct 2009 12:56:15 -0400

I seem to have a unique talent for obsessing endlessly over minor, mundane differences in pretty boring things. That said: let’s talk about tobacco in the UK and US! At length!

As a person with absolutely no respect for their physical wellbeing, I take great pleasure in blowing large amounts of hard-earned money on smoking. No biggy. Slightly more surprising to American people is that I roll my own cigarettes. I have done for most of my smoking life (which began when I was 18), primarily because of the cost.

In the UK, a pack of 20 cigarettes will set you back a little over £5. I can buy a pouch of tobacco, some rolling papers, and filter tips that will make up at least that many — around 30, before I run out of tobacco — for about £3. That’s a considerable saving on a fairly expensive habit. More than worth the extra hassle of having to roll the damn things whenever I want one, and in practise, that usually means I smoke less, something to do with having to make a conscious decision to make a cigarette before I can smoke it.

As far as I can tell, the savings aren’t quite as pronounced here in the US. Pack of 20 in the UK: £5. Pack of 20 in the US? $5. Huge difference there. (These are anecdotal observations, of course, I’m sure the exact prices vary a little from place to place.) It doesn’t seem to be just a matter of price, though; tobacco is also taxed a lot more heavily in the UK.

According to The Tobacco Manafacturers’ Association, the average price of a pack of 20 in the UK as of April 2009 is £5.85. Most of that is tax: £4.45 of it. The tax in the US is a mere $1.01 per pack. Which, courtesy of Barack Obama, is 61.6 cents more per pack than it was a year ago.

As far as tobacco goes, the cost of the materials to make your own seems to be fairly equivalent to the cost of just buying cigarettes, so it’s not quite as cost effective (though it does work out slightly cheaper, and usually tastes a lot better).

That said, although Americans find cigarettes and tobacco ridiculously expensive, it’s hard for me not to feel like I’m not getting a huge bargain.

There are a couple of other miscellaneous things I’ve noticed with tobacco in the US.

One: the quantities differ. In the UK, when you buy tobacco, you choose between a 12.5g, 25g, or 50g pouch. In the US, your options appear to be 40g pouch or Big Ass Tub O’ Tobacco — I think it was about half a kilogram, but I don’t recall — I only bought one once, because that’s a ridiculous amount of tobacco to buy.

It’s also a lot harder to find loose tobacco here. In Indianapolis, there’s one specialty tobacco supplier, and the odd gas station (Brits: that’s a petrol station) where you can find it. In the UK, every single general store, supermarket and gas station sells it; if they sell cigarettes, they sell tobacco.

There are some interesting regulatory differences, too. It’s illegal to advertise cigarettes in most mediums in both the US and the UK, and both countries require that manafacturers put health warnings on them, but the UK takes that a lot more seriously.

On the left here is a British tobacco pouch. On the right is an American one. (The differences are exactly the same on cigarette packets, too.) Right off, there’s an obvious difference in approaches, but this Wikipedia goes into more detail. To wit:

Anywhere in the EU, there must be at least two health warnings. One must cover 30% of the surface of the pack, and the other must cover 40%. There must also be a picture warning. Some of the pictures get a little graphic. (Though Brazil has us beat on graphic images.)

The US is a lot more lax about it, having one of the least prominent health warnings of all countries.

Warnings are usually in small typeface placed along one of the sides of the cigarette packs with colors and fonts that closely resemble the rest of the package, so the warnings essentially are integrated and do not stand out with the rest of the cigarette package.

Though that is soon to change, with new regulations requiring 50% of the front and back to have warning labels and capital letters.

I’d like to know more about how the US approaches trying to make people quit. It’s already pretty obvious that Brits get way more anti-smoking propaganda than Americans, but that’s a topic for another day. I need a cigarette.

More On Advertising

Fri, 18 Sep 2009 10:16:50 -0400

I’ve already mentioned advertising at some length, but here’s one more recent observation.

I saw two commercials that surprised me last night. The first was a Burger King commercial, and the second was a Hardy’s commercial (another burger place, for non-US people). In Burger King’s, they were promoting a new burger and implied that it was better than a McDonald’s burger. I don’t recall the exact wording, but they were comparing the two burgers, and BK’s ad said a) their burger contained more meat, b) probably tasted better than the equivalent McDonald’s burger. They cleverly avoided saying it was definitely better, but the implication was clear and obvious. Hardy’s commercial was a similar situation, but the only specific name they used was “Big Mac,” which is obviously a McDonald’s burger to the majority of people.

Maybe this kind advertising is common to Americans, but it would never happen in British advertising.

For one, as previously mentioned, all British advertising is governed by Advertising Standards, and they set some pretty strict rules for what can and can not be in an advert. One of them is this:

Advertisements must not discredit or unfairly attack other products or services, advertisers or advertisements either directly or by implication

So that kind of thing is flat out not allowed in the UK. There’s another rule that goes like this:

Advertisements must reflect the spirit, not just the letter of the rules

So while you might be able to employ some clever wordplay that indirectly discredits a competitor without actually breaking the rules, the chance that Advertising Standards will let it fly is minimal.

As far as I can tell, the FTC’s Division of Advertising Practices handles this in the US, and doesn’t seem to make any such mention of denigration or discrediting of competitors. It does require that all claims be backed up with hard evidence — thus being able to say with certainty that a burger contains more meat than a competitor’s, but not that it tastes better.

Looking south (I think!) up (down?) Pennsylvania (I think!) in...

Thu, 17 Sep 2009 11:47:00 -0400

Looking south (I think!) up (down?) Pennsylvania (I think!) in Indianapolis (I think!)

As previously mentioned, the hyper-organised grid layout of American cities is a vast improvement on The British Way. It’s logical, efficient, and it makes getting around easier. At the time, I predicted going places being trivial in solo ventures.

I was wrong.

It still makes sense, and I still think it makes for a great navigational system, but it requires a mindset that is far removed from what I’m used to in Britain.

We navigate by landmark in the UK. There’s simply no other way until you know the place well enough to get around without thinking. (Comparison here, if you need it.) We turn left at the hardware store, and take the second right after Craven Road, and drive about 100 yards past the school before turning right. You can’t do that here, because everything looks the same.

I tried to do it that way for the longest time. For the first few months here, the landmark I used to know what street we live on was a traffic cone sat on the corner. I know exactly where we live now, and I could get there blindfolded within a radius of a few blocks, but the cone was still the marker I used at first, and it became a habit after that. Because that’s just the way I’m used to when getting around. And then last week the cone disappeared. As I approached the corner of our street, I noticed that it was missing and had an “am I going the right way?” moment. Without the cone, it looked the same as any other corner in the area.

Outside of abandoned traffic cones, landmarks I was using were certain buildings and stores (turn left when you see Kroger), distance travelled (take the second right), and other miscellaneous structures like bars, war memorials, and trees (seriously).

It took a total of around 4 months to realise that simply wasn’t going to work, after noticing I could still barely make it downtown (a 20 minute walk) without getting confused.

So now I’m doing what I should have done in the beginning — making sure I always know what direction I’m travelling, and trying to remember which streets lead where and in what direction. Heather has been extremely patient with my constant confusion (“we’re walking north, right?”, “South!”), and trying to give helpful pointers where possible — like the fact that we live north of the city centre, and certain streets being one way in a particular direction (Delaware is a one-way north¹). I usually forget within minutes, but I’m finding eventual recognition with repetition.

I’m not really sure why this is giving me such difficulty — it’s pretty fucking straightforward, really — but I suppose the way you navigate your city or town (or country, even) becomes such an ingrained habit that it’s hard to change. Baby steps.

1. The high number of one-way streets is also an oddity I’m getting used to. They’re rare in the UK, generally reserved for back alleys and small roads that aren’t wide enough to accomodate two cars. Here, they can be 4-lane behemoths that serve as major streets.

For the last 3 months, I spent my weekends — and most...

Sat, 05 Sep 2009 15:36:57 -0400

For the last 3 months, I spent my weekends — and most weekdays — holed up at my Mother’s place in England, doing not a great deal. That got really mind-numbingly boring real fast. So being here in Indianapolis and actually doing stuff is a huge difference, and I love it. It’s just nice to be active, instead of vegetating on a couch all day.

Last night we went to a friend’s party and had a great time. Then today we went downtown and checked out the Labor Day parade — where Heather got a “Health care for America NOW!” sign that she steadfastly insisted on carrying around for the rest of the day — had a wonderful breakfast at a place called Le Peep, then discovered a civil war museum under a war memorial in Monument Circle.

Great day.

27th August

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 07:38:00 -0400

I finally have a date for my triumphant return: the 27th of August.

Knowing exactly when we’ll be together is a massive (expensive!) weight off both our minds. I think I smiled the whole day I bought my plane ticket. Relationships are hard enough without not being able to be together, and touch each other, and see each other laugh and cry. A healthy relationship requires physical contact, there’s no two ways about it. That’s what makes long distance relationships so hard. Especially when there’s an ocean between the two of you.

The last three months have been immensely difficult for both of us, and it’s seemed a little bleak at times, especially in the last month. The stress and constant lack of physical contact has caused stress, and unhappiness, and inevitably, some arguments. Knowing when we’ll be able to see each other again makes it all worth it; there’s an end in sight, and a great feeling of We Made It.

We haven’t actually made it yet, of course. It’s a long, hard road from here. But for the next three months, at least, it’s a road we can travel together.

And that makes us both unspeakably happy.

Plans

Fri, 07 Aug 2009 10:23:23 -0400

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to make an update here. Since I got back, I’ve just been working as much as I can, and Heather has been doing the same. But this week, we finally made some progress. We’ve decided exactly how we’re going to orchestrate this Being Together business, and I’ve saved enoguh money to go and visit her again. I’ll start with the latter.

It took a while to find a job here. The recession’s hit Newbury pretty bad, and job opportunities are few and far between, which made it easy to accept a job line picking in a refrigerated warehouse. Not a job I’d ever willingly choose to do, but it was fairly easy, I could pick my shifts, and the pay was better than anything else I’d be likely to find. I’ve also been working a second job editing Marco’s GMSTR. The two combined mean I have enough money to visit Heather again now, so I’ll be doing that as soon as humanly possible. Hopefully while it is still August.

As for our long-term plans, we’ve finalised that too. We dismissed the standard visas as an option early on, since I stand little chance of finding a job that will sponsor me without a degree, so we turned to spousal visas. Which means getting married, something we were both immediately fine with. Long story short, when I visit this month, we’re going to start making plans to get married. Which means I’m getting married some time between August and November. (Yikes!) Then I’m going to leave again, and we’re going to apply for a K-3 visa, which basically gives the US resident (Heather) permission to bring her husband into the country permanently.

There are still ways in which this could all blow up. No visa is a sure thing, but we’ll be doing everything we can to make sure it goes smoothly. It’s going to take about 10 months, as a conservative estimate, and it’s going to be hard, expensive, and complicated, but it’s also going to be so fucking worth it.

I still have a lot of “holy shit” moments when I think about the fact that I’ll have a wife and a new home in a different country a year from now, but it’s the best possible kind of holy shit.

It’s getting close to a month since I left Indianapolis,...

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 13:51:17 -0400

Our place, eventually

Looking downtown. One of my favourites

Downtown at night

Indiana War Memorial at night

"The World is Fucked"

Heather & Ross; I miss these guys

My favourite photo of Heather

Ross, the coolest dog I've ever met

Empty Downtown after the Indy 500 parade

It’s getting close to a month since I left Indianapolis, and I’m starting to miss it all a great deal. Heather, her dogs, the city itself. It’s not a feeling I’m accustomed to, so you’ll forgive me for indulging myself in a photo set of some of my favourite photos taken while I was there that I haven’t shared yet. Can’t wait to get back to all this.

The Kennet and Avon Canal, which runs right through...

Fri, 19 Jun 2009 12:33:00 -0400

The Kennet and Avon Canal, which runs right through Newbury.

Just a quick update, since it’s been so long.

I arrived back in the UK on June 4th, after a hellishly boring and sleepless overnight flight. My visa-free time in the US, regrettably, having come to an end.

That said, I couldn’t have chosen a better day to come back. Driving home from the airport at around 10am, the weather was wonderful, and I realised I’d been taking the UK for granted in some respects: it’s really scenic here. Not an epiphany I was expecting.

The drive home from the airport is incredibly scenic and perhaps even beautiful. I arrived back in Newbury and once again, I was struck by just how nice it is here. For all its good points, one thing Indianapolis doesn’t have is scenery, and England has that in spades.

That said, that’s about the only positive thing I can think of to say about the UK, which isn’t all that surprising, given that I’m now stuck here until I can afford a flight back, while Heather is thousands of miles away.

Here’s the plan: find a job, save enough money for a flight back and a fiancé visa.

Oh yeah, we’re engaged too. Almost everyone I know has reacted very positively to the news, which is encouraging, and we’re both very grateful for all the positive messages about it.

So, obviously, I’m looking to get out of this place as fast as possible and get back to my fiancé (still seems a little odd to say), which may be harder than it sounds, thanks to a little thing called the recession. Job opportunities here are few and far between, and I haven’t managed to find a single lead yet in my two weeks being back. (If you happen to know of one, do let me know.)

If I can get out of this place before Christmas, I’ll be happy and surprised.

Photo courtesy of David & Cheryl M.

Continuing the advertising theme, here are two promotional...

Thu, 07 May 2009 12:48:00 -0400

Continuing the advertising theme, here are two promotional videos for 30 Rock. The one embedded above is from Channel 5, a British channel. Compare to the one embedded below, which is from NBC, the American channel that airs the show.

Of note:

Rock music!
Screaming women!
Huge hype of a celebrity appearance!
As much as possible squeezed into 30 seconds!
Emmy-winning best comedy!

And take note of which scenes the two are promoting. The American promo is highlighting numerous big funny moments. It’s very in your face, and cut together to make it seem very exciting. And as good as 30 Rock is, it’s not that exciting. The British promo is comparatively restrained, and the scene shown (just one, mind, not 4 or more different scenes in quick succession) is also more restrained, and probably appeals to a British audience a little more.

On Advertising

Thu, 07 May 2009 11:46:00 -0400

Just so we’re all on the same page, when I say “advert” I mean commercial, and when I say “aerial” I mean antenna. I’m aware of these differences, but they still seem unnatural to say, so I’m sticking to my British guns.

I came to a conclusion this week: the US and the UK — my experiences of each, at least — really aren’t all that different. Obviously, there are some major differences that are hard to ignore — different currency, driving on the wrong side of the road, and so on — but if you take a step back and take a very general view of the two places, there are far more similarities than differences.

That is, until you turn on the television. More specifically, until you turn on the television and wait for the next ad break (or “commercial break”). I could say watching American adverts is a little like being forced into something you absolutely do not want, over and over again, while between 10 and 50 people shout at you as loud as they can.

Watching American adverts for the first time is rather overwhelming, as you might have gathered. I’ve been here two months and I’m still a little jarred when the adverts come on¹ (admittedly, I haven’t watched much television here). But before getting into specific advertising differences, it’s worth noting that there are some fundamental differences in the way Britons get their telly.

There aren’t as many TV channels in the UK. Cable TV is almost ubiquitous over here, which almost guarantees a minimum of around 12 channels (I think). In the UK, your basic TV + aerial will net you 5 channels. Two of those are public channels, funded by our tax money², and as such do not broadcast adverts.

Secondly, British advertising is strictly regulated³. The rule used to be only 6 minutes of advertising per hour, but it’s been relaxed to 12 more recently.

So with these two caveats, that means there are a lot less potential ad spots on British television than there are on American television, which by extension means Britons see less adverts. I’m not sure how this might affect the content of our adverts, if it does at all, but it’s worth noting nonetheless.

On with the show.

Although the basic notion of advertisements stays the same — to convince a consumer to buy a product — there are two very different methods employed, and thanks to an introductory Media course, I’m able to give these methods names!

Hard Sell vs. Soft Sell

All signs point to American consumers not giving a damn about advertisers, welcoming them into every facet of their daily lives, but Britons see advertising as an unwanted menace, forcing advertisers to approach us from a more non-invasive angle.⁴ Enter: the soft sell.

American adverts are all about the hard sell. The product is the star, and every second of the advert is devoted to it, touting its features, aggrandizing it in every which way possible, staging it in face-offs against its lesser competitors. The product is front and centre the whole time, telling you what a fucking badass it is, and how it will save your life. British adverts, on the other hand, are almost embarrassed to be there at all. Frequently, the product takes a backseat to other elements, with the adverts relying on other techniques to reel you in, without being pushy about how awesome the product is.

One technique I’ve seen used more and more frequently is to set the advert up as a mini-drama or movie. The video embedded below is one example.

In 30 seconds of advertising, there are only two specific mentions of the product — one of which is engineered to be a part of the “story” — and the advertisement itself is written in a way that, presumably, is designed to engage the viewer, encouraging them to pay attention. It also features characters of a popular British soap opera, which is sure to appeal to the hordes of froth-mouthed soap addicts in Britain.

Another good example is this excellent Burger King advert from a few years ago. For the most part, it’s a catchy, entertaining sing-song. The burger itself doesn’t enter until right at the very end. It draws you in, and waits until the very end to push its product. It’s particularly effective because the song is catchy and easy to remember, leading to huge numbers of people wandering around humming or singing the song, generating yet more advertising for them.⁵

It would be unfair to say that there are no American adverts employing less annoying techniques like these, but they are considerably rarer, displaced by adverts that are all information, all sell, and almost all annoying. If British adverts are like a mini-drama or movie, then American adverts are more like lectures: a narrator extolling the virtues of a product that, in all likelihood, covers the majority of the television screen.

Something else I’ve noticed is the part humour plays in adverts. There are some hilarious adverts aired in the UK — and they’re always the most memorable ones — but I see humour during adverts a lot less frequently over here. And it seems to be a different kind of humour, too, which won’t be at all surprising to a lot of people. Almost everything about British humour — be it in an advert or movie, or a stand-up comedian — is opposite to American humour. Where we rely more on puns and satire, Americans seem to go more for big, easy laughs.

Advert content aside, there are also numerous types of advert you just don’t see very often on British TV. Thanks largely to the advent of the DVR, advertisers are trying to cram as much advertising as possible into the shows themselves. Almost all the major networks advertise their major shows over whatever is currently on. (Can you imagine an advert for Coronation Street while Emmerdale is still on?) This is starting to happen on British TV too, but it’s largely confined to the end of the show, while the credits are rolling.

Product placement, too, isn’t nearly as common on British TVs. The video embedded below compiles a few scenes of product placement on one of my favourite American shows, 30 Rock:

It’s blatant product placement that they don’t even bother trying to hide, even making self-referential jokes about it⁶. I saw a similarly blatant example of product placement a few weeks ago in a Heroes episode where two of the characters drove a car that was also being advertised heavily during the advert breaks. Bonus points if anyone knows the embarrassing reason that I even know what Jimmy Choos are. If a British show attempted something like this, Advertising Standards would have a field day. As recently as March, Andy Burnham, the UK’s culture secretary, said “fuck no” to product placement.

So that’s American advertising. With the gentle stroll through the commercial break that I’m used to, it feels a lot like getting punched in the face.

Edit: Avery provided a little fact checking, and I’ve edited this appropriately.

Probably at least partially because commercials here seem to be played at a higher volume
BBC 1 & 2
Plenty of info about it on the Advertising Standards Authority website
There is research that backs this up that you could find fairly easily
It also prompted thousands of complaints from butthurt women, which I like to think Burger King anticipated, knowing it would lead to press coverage, and by extension, even more advertising for them
Doing so is kind of a 30 Rock “thing”, more about it here

Pardon?

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 10:22:00 -0400

I made brief mention of language previously, but as a guy that’s into language, that’s not nearly enough. So here’s the prerequisite “you guys speak funny” post.

The language differences between American English (AmE) and British English (BrE) are well documented (and here, by my old Linguistics tutor), so I’m not going to go into too much detail here, lest I stray into stating the obvious. There are also numerous inherent FYIs on this matter, where regional dialects and accents and the like are concerned, but I’m not going to go into that much detail either.

The most immediate observation, obviously, is accent. My accent differs greatly from anyone else’s here. So much so that a German girl Heather works with claimed to be unable to understand the British accent, despite fluency in American English (we haven’t met, but I don’t believe her). Surprisingly, though, it hasn’t been that big of a deal. I’m not really sure what I was expecting, but there hasn’t been any “OMG you’re English!” or accent-related misunderstandings or confusion. Both accents, I think, are pretty clear and easy to understand.

Different accents, of course, bring different pronunciations. Mostly, this is down to accent, but there are some words Americans just say differently. For the most part, it’s just stressing a different syllable, like with “adult,” where we stress the first syllable, rather than the last, which relates to “adult” being a French loanword, I believe (we do the same with “debut” and “nonchalant,” also French, and the other way round with “address” and “cigarette,” also French). But there are some legitimate pronunciation differences, some of which I find very odd. One of them is “greasy”: in BrE that would be [GREE-see], but in AmE it becomes [GREE-zee]¹. That one still trips me up whenever it comes up, and since some halfwit left a tub of discarded cooking fat in the yard (not the garden!), it comes up with unusual frequency.

I know I said I wouldn’t go into too much detail, but it’s worth noting that that’s just an anecdotal observation, and that in different parts of the US, and indeed the UK, the pronunciation is the other way round. Furthermore, The American Heritage Dictionary’s usage notes say that the verb grease is also variably pronounced with an [s] or a [z], but that the noun is always pronounced with an [s] (although this is not true in Heather’s case, and it sounds odd).

There’s no need to document every single pronunciation difference here, but needless to say, it has proven to be quite an interesting thing to observe here, for others as well as myself, as Heather will attest to if she ever stops laughing at my pronunciation of “pizza” (it ends with [er] rather than [a]).

Another difference I keep noticing and being surprised by relates to formal and notational agreement of collective nouns, but I’ll point you to a Wikipedia page for that, because there’s no need to rehash something that’s already been said perfectly well by someone with more authority than myself.

The other notable hurdle has been the words American use. Boot becomes trunk, garden becomes yard, and on my second day here, Heather laughs hysterically when I refer to the screens on the windows as mosquito nets. Most of these differences are trivial — and I already know most of them exist, which makes it easier — but it can be hard to see myself ever calling a boot the trunk and not feeling weird about it, though I’m sure I will eventually.

Honestly, having watched so much American television, and having a longstanding interest in Linguistics in general, I think I was a lot less surprised by language differences like this than I might have been, which is something I’m grateful for, as far as easing the transition goes. For most people, it’s not even slightly interesting to read about, which is why I’ve kept this brief, but for everyone else, the Wikipedia articles linked herein should provide interesting reading.

1. That’s a basic pronunciation guide; if it’s confusing, just read it out loud, and put stress on the bold type

On Saturday, the temperature in Indianapolis hit 81.3°F. Which,...

Tue, 21 Apr 2009 13:32:06 -0400

On Saturday, the temperature in Indianapolis hit 81.3°F. Which, to most Americans, is probably nothing. But for comparison: the average temperature in Andover¹ for April is 47°F. I thought I was going to die.

As the chart above shows (yes, I made a chart for this), the average temperature here during summer is consistently around 15° higher than in Andover, which is a non-trivial amount for a British guy with almost perfectly white legs. The highest recorded temperature in Indianapolis last year is also around 15° higher than it was in Andover, at 104°F. As if that wasn’t bad enough, winter in Indianapolis is consistently a lot colder than Andover’s.

I have yet to see how I’ll handle that kind of heat at length — and it’s not even certain that I’ll get to yet — but as I said to Heather: If anyone tries to make me wear shorts, I’ll be on the next plane back to England.

All the information here came from Weatherbase, in case anyone wondered.

1. Andover is about 15 miles from Newbury, where I’m actually from, and is the nearest place to it that I could find reliable weather statistics for.

Dear Steak & Shake, Drinks big enough to fill a person for...

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 20:04:50 -0400

Dear Steak & Shake,

Drinks big enough to fill a person for at least 2 meals? Really? In a recession?
A happy hour is one hour.
A happy hour at a fast food restaurant? Really?

A McDonald’s sign peeking out from some shrubbery. The...

Mon, 20 Apr 2009 11:03:00 -0400

A McDonald’s sign peeking out from some shrubbery.

The hyper-organized grid layout of American streets seems to run counter to the general layout of things like retail outlets, food chains and that sort of stuff.

Every British town or city I’ve ever been in has a “town centre”, where the majority of retail outlets, fast food chains, and general places-to-spend-money are, that spans an area somewhere between 4 and 10 blocks in size (very rough and probably inaccurate estimate). Outside of that centre (sorry, “center”), it’s mostly housing, schools, and convenience stores dotted around. There are exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, that’s how British cities are laid out.

There is no quicker to explain how different this is to American cities (or at the very least, Indianapolis) than to say: shit is everywhere. There are Walmarts (think supermarket, Brits) on opposite sides of the city, fast food chains pop up anywhere and everywhere, and, although there is a downtown area with a high concentration of commercial outlets (predominantly restaurants in Indianapolis, it seems), it couldn’t be considered a town centre in the same way as a British town, because it doesn’t account for even a small percentage of retail opportunities in the city.

That said, American cities tend to be a lot bigger than British cities. Wikipedia doesn’t seem to know how big most British cities are, but in terms of population, Indianapolis dwarfs Brighton, the biggest British city I’ve lived in, with a population of 795,458 to Brighton’s 155,919. That doesn’t necessarily tell you much about size (no word on population density either), but it’s enough of a difference to assume Indianapolis is considerably larger. So given the size difference, a focused town or city centre would probably be inefficient and pointless.

Even so, it seems odd to drive to one side of the city to pick up some cables for a computer, then back into the centre for fast food, then somewhere completely different to find a Walmart. Fortunately, where Brighton has maybe 2 or 3 McDonald’s, for example, Indianapolis has more than 30, according to Google Maps, covering all areas of the city. (And Google Maps kind of makes all this completely irrelevant, anyway, since I can find out where anything is in seconds.)

This is the study, and my favorite room right now, in the old...

Wed, 15 Apr 2009 00:14:00 -0400

This is the study, and my favorite room right now, in the old Indianapolis mansion I live in. It was almost condemned before the owners bought the place to refurbish it. There are 16 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, and 4 kitchens, and everyone living here has taken the initiative to decorate. I share a wing with 2 men, both waiters and not at all settled. [One of the two waiters, David, has since left.] None of us are really, but we’re trying to make the house less gloomy. I think my room used to be John Elam’s office, and it’ll be the hardest room to brighten. The walls are blue, and the owner hung black curtains! This is certainly not where I wanted to be in 2009, but I’m in a place where I can think and a job where I help others.

Courtesy of Heather, this is a photo and brief description of the place we live in at the moment. We’re still not sure if we’re staying here permanently, but it’s a really nice (and huge) place.

Quick Administrative Note

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 16:52:37 -0400

This thing has comments now. Do your worst, and say “hi” to my Mother if you see her.