EA's John Matlin is travelling through America:
However many trips I make to the US, I am always astonished by something new. Sometimes it’s the politics, sometimes it's the gadgets. More often than not, it's the culture.
Last week, Mitt Romney was campaigning in Michigan, his home state, as he tries to secure the Republican nomination for President. He looked happy and relaxed as he took the podium as he declared, “I love this state. I was born here. The trees here are just the right height.”
Sprawled on my daughter’s couch, I sprang to life. “What did he say? He did not say that, did he?” I asked those nearby. They confirmed I had heard correctly.
I needed to ask questions. Were Republican “values” to be applied to trees? Under a Romney Administration, what would happen to those states whose trees were too short, or too tall, or heaven forefend, too wide? Sadly, I could not find a GOP spokesman to whom I could address these questions, and I was too scared to go online in case the Republican Tree Police caught me and tried to have me deported.
Later that night, my daughter’s partner and I were relaxing by the pool. I needed to take a cap off a bottle of beer. “Easy,” said Matt. “Pass it here.” He took off his flip-flop, reversed it in his hand and removed the bottle top with ease. “How did you do that?” I asked. He showed me a bottle opener lodged in the sole of the shoe.
How does an inventor know there is a market for such things? Is it the beach life or merely the bubble that is Miami Beach? I have no idea. But it made me feel better that a man sitting on his stoop in Somewhere USA can remove his shoe and open his beer, even if his tree is too tall.
On a trip to the northern part of Florida, I passed a hostelry called H2. (I won’t mention the town in case, upon reading this piece, an influx of tourists tests its infrastructure to breaking point.) A local described H2, “Bikers like it. It’s the kinda place where they’ll re-arrange your face," but what caught my attention was the sign outside: “Cole-slaw wrestling on Friday nights.”
I checked with my host. “No,” he informed me indignantly, “cabbages and carrots do not wrestle each other.” It seems instead that a wrestling ring is put up in the middle of the place and it is filled with cole-slaw and mayonnaise. Ladies who are "up for it" enter the ring and grabble each other until pinned into the vegetable mixture.
Now, I am as broad-minded as anyone. I have seen a televised mud wrestling competition. But cole-slaw? I told my host it was disrespectful to the cabbages and carrots, not to mention the eggs and fixings for the mayonnaise. I did not mention that it was also pretty disrespectful to the lady wrestlers. I didn’t fancy having my face re-arranged.
In this world of harsh economic times, high unemployment, and Western values under attack, it is a relief to come to a country where you can still laugh at the absurd.
Unless you are worried about the persecution of too-tall trees.