This is a letter to author series edition (told you I’m bringing it back), writing to the author of That’s Not English: Britishisms, Americanisms, and what our English says about us (nonfiction, 2015).
Dear Erin Moore,
With your nonfiction That’s Not English, which I am currently reading, I feel like you’re tricking me.
The reason for that is, you at first write some stuff that glorifies how American language and British language are both similar and different, encouraging Americans to visit England at some point in their lives while getting the English to pay some honor to the former Colonies, but I also feel like you don’t want me to go at all, that I should never travel anywhere in the world and look no further than the east coast of the mainland.
Let me tell you this. I’ve lived in Maryland for almost 30 years and I can’t stand it anymore. The only places I’ve traveled to are east coast states. I’ve been to Florida twice, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, Assateague Island in Virginia twice as well, West Virginia (Busch Gardens only), Pennsylvania countless times because I have family there, Delaware (my late grandpa Poppi used to live there), and New Jersey dozens of times, including one time where I went to the Chiller Theatre Expo on the edge of the state where I got a good look of the New York City skyline from the hotel windows. That’s the closest I’ve been to New York.
My parents have also been to Boston and New York City to see the Cheers bar and a taping of David Letterman, but I’ve never been to either of those places. They also went to Las Vegas to celebrate their wedding anniversary, but because I was 19 at the time, I was never allowed to go with them. They said I wouldn’t have liked it anyway, because most of the things in Vegas were for ages 21 and over, so I wouldn’t be allowed to have any fun there unless I had a fake ID. The last vacation they took for their anniversary was in 2016, celebrating 30 years, where they went to St. Thomas, but it turned out to be a total disaster because of so many mistakes and mishaps along the way, and both of them were miserable when they got home.
They made up for that failed vacation in the Caribbean by taking me to Wildwood, NJ on my birthday, which was a much better getaway, a month later. Since then, we have not been on another vacation, and since my parents returned from St. Thomas, I’ve decided to never visit the Caribbean in my entire life since they’ve told me their time there was so horrible and there was nothing there except expensive, high end jewelry and cheap booze to get drunk on in a bungalow.
So, do you see my problem? I’ve never been anywhere. I am jealous of you having a British husband because I’ve always wanted to see England for family and not just ancestor reasons, as well as a reason to see the countryside and learn about British history.
I do want to see some places in America before I die, but there aren’t many: New York, Vegas, New Orleans, San Diego (for Comic Con), Deep Creek (yes there are places in MD I’ve never been to and I’d like to see them), Portland, Oregon (again, my best friend Kerensa talked me into it), and Hawaii, of course.
I want to go to Wales to see the Doctor Who Experience in Cardiff. I want to see Chawton and Bath to see the places Jane Austen used to live in. And I’d love to see London to check out The Eye, the original Hard Rock Cafe, which is like a mini Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in a pub, the London Dungeon (because of my best friend said she loved it), and North Gower Street, because it’s the location of where Baker Street was shot in the BBC series Sherlock. Yes, it’s the one you might have seen already, the one with Benedict Cumberbatch playing the detective and Martin Freeman is his friend and blogger, Dr. Watson.
But I read some of your short essays and chapters on British language and culture, and how it clashes with American ways, and I feel like you’re now tricking me. You said in your book that the British have a completely different palette than Americans do, and the British make smaller foods mainly because of the World Wars, mainly the one involving Hitler. You also said in your chapter called “Ginger” where you said that redheads are the ones whom become the most tortured and tormented by non-gingers in England. And it’s because of England’s brutal history of wars and martyrs (William Wallace is one) between Ireland and Scotland.
I get it, the British generally hate redheads because of their Celtic ancestry. It’s why Scotland still is a part of the UK and so is a part of Ireland, Northern Ireland, and it’s probably why poor Ed Sheeran has a drinking problem.
But like Emma Stone, Isla Fisher, and Amy Adams, a few of the actresses you mentioned in your book, I am also a ‘ginger’. My hair is deep auburn, as red as it gets.
So let me ask you this, if I actually apply for a passport and a visa and I manage to visit England, will I get raped or brutally injured by some nasty British teenagers or criminals over 18 when I get there, because of my hair? I still want to go, but I don’t want to come back home with any broken bones. I don’t like pain or crime.
Also, you maybe forgot to mention the terrible terrorist attacks in Europe, in France and Manchester, England, if you remember. I don’t particularly want to go to the UK at this moment because of the Isis attacks, if you remember those. Obama said we’d catch these people who did these horrible things, but right now that’s the least of our problems because Obama has left, we now have a total dickhead asshole in the White House, and we’re more concerned with our kids being safe because of what is happening with a ton of school shootings in the beginning of the year.
I don’t know how the British are dealing with it. I’m sure security is much more tightened, so I’m afraid of visiting right now.
As much as I want to try some real British tea (plenty of sugar, no milk for me) with scones and biscuits or crumpets and clotted cream, and I’d like to see what kind of dark chocolates I can get my hands on, maybe try a curry house or eating a fish breakfast, I feel that you’re tricking me into avoiding that place my whole life. I feel like you’re giving me a culture shock from reading your story, but I haven’t even left my house while reading it.
And yet, you’ve said some pretty nice things about the British. They love to play with the English language, which I think is cool, much cooler than our American slang. I mean, I really want to get out of this country I’m stuck in because of the horrendous language we have. I mean, “selfie”? “Sausage party”? “Lol”? “Emojis”? The only emojis I really use are the smiley faces and hearts; I don’t even use any of the other emojis I have on Facebook, unless I want to use their “stickers” in messaging. I prefer words you introduced: mufti, moreish, trainers, brolly, bespoke, and way out. “She Way Out” is an Arctic Monkeys song, and I love that band for more reasons than the fact that they’re also British.
I have a really shitty phone as well. I can get smiley faces from other people when I text, but no emojis and no pictures, and I can’t find the button on the phone that will let me type special characters such as ‘, (), :, quotes, hyphen, or the semi colon. I try being grammatically correct in all of my texts, but my texting looks horrible as it is without an apostrophe.
I would love it if I could get the hell out of my country so I could at least enjoy myself without any problems. Maryland is boring. England is still a fascinating country with an even bigger history than America has.
You even have Eurovision every year! I actually want to participate by voting for someone in the music contest held every year in May. And yet, I’m not allowed because I’m a stupid Yank.
As much as I hate rainy weather, I actually don’t mind most weather in Florida because it’s predictable. I’ve been to Orlando twice, and I’ve learned from being there in the late spring early summer that if you stay indoors at 4 p.m. every day for at least an hour, you’ll be fine and dry because the rain will pass and be gone. If it rains in England as much as you say, then I will make sure the first thing I do when I get there is buy myself a huge raincoat or sturdy umbrella and Paddington the Peruvian bear style galoshes and I should be fine.
Maryland weather is unpredictable, if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes. That’s what my dad always says. We get the occasional sunny days, but our weather teams at every news station can never tell when a thunderstorm is on its way. Case in point: Brony Con 2017 when my boyfriend and I went downtown to stay at a hotel next to the Baltimore Convention Center, and when we finished dinner at Uno Pizza in the Harborplace, it suddenly T stormed right on top of the harbor and we had to walk through the flash flooded areas back to our hotel with one umbrella. It was one of the worst summers we ever had.
So that said, do I have to wear a wig or dye my hair blond or heaven forbid, shave my head, just to go to England and blend in without getting mugged? You were born an American like me, only you’re not a redhead like me, but do you have any advice for me? Please don’t say don’t come here if you don’t want to get beaten up by the natives.
Erin, I wish I could be you for a day.
Love, Rachel
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