American

I received the following supportive comment from "Terry" in response to yesterday's blogpost:-

It's nice to have an observant reader like Terry who notices the small detail of one's humour.

Terry's remark reminded me of  certain encounters I had in the state of Ohio when I was a summer camp counsellor there in the mid-nineteen seventies.

One night I fell into conversation with a couple of local redneck guys (English: Conservatives) in "Skip and Ray's Bar" (English: pub) by the road to Burton, east of Chagrin Falls.

They had noticed my English accent. One of them asked where I was from so I told them. They seemed a little puzzled to learn that other countries existed beyond the shores of The United States.

I informed them that they in fact spoke the English language and that it originated in England.

One of them - let's call him Bob - visibly bristled and protested, "I don't speak English. I speak American!"  

His pupils enlarged dangerously. He was clearly a proud patriot, affronted by the idea that the very language of his land of sidewalks (English: pavements) and candy-cotton  (English: candyfloss) was borrowed from another country.  

Who was I to persuade him otherwise? Just a cleverdick limey bastard ordering another pitcher of beer, hoping that Bob did not have a rifle  in his pick-up truck (English: a small vehicle with an open part at the back in which goods can be carried).

Of course, I am aware that  the kind of Americans who visit this lil'ol' blog tend to be better educated and  more knowledgeable about the  wider world than Bob  appeared to be. As I recall, he and his buddy (English: friend)  worked in land drainage, moving earth and digging trenches from dawn to dusk.  The salt of the earth. You have to respect people like that. We need them.

from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/3mvwdOe