The statistics tell one story I guess. And the emotionally driven sinking red line tells another. But last week I picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal on my way to breakfast where beside pictures of brokers with heads in their hands was a small story about one (unknown) company paying $6billion in…
…being so, well, American. It is October. So the corn stalks are out, reminding us of harvest thanksgiving. Orange pumpkins dot the sidewalks and verandas. Halloween creeps up on us after all, and only the blind or dull and unobservant could miss these brilliant cues.
On Sunday I sat in a movie theatre in Texas and watched Russell Crowe, Leonardo Di Caprio and others in the recently released movie “Body of Lies”. There was something in the experience that came full circle – or rather I should say there were a number of interesting threads that came together that afternoon.
We always say that even though we speak the same language as our American cousins we often don’t hear the same words. Which is another way of saying there are lots of things which on the surface are assumed to be the same but which are in fact very different.
(Starting to slip into a US drawl) “Howya doing? Hope Street please.” (this was in Washington DC). Silence “Do you know where that is?” Nods. “Are you able to take me there?” (it is considered a tough part of town) “Mmmmmm.”
I love learning where words originate. Studying Old and Middle English at Uni was therefore a complete distraction wrapped up in a complete distraction! Sticking with the Shawnee Trail for the moment (see other entries) the city of Frisco here is building, expanding, flourishing (and otherwise ignoring the madness on Wall Street) and every piece…
We all admire the hard physical contact sport of ice hockey for its speed and well, hard physical contact. But my inaugural attendance at this game (Dallas Stars against the Oilers (no, I had no idea who they were either – all the way down from Canada)), which I thoroughly enjoyed, was an insight into…
Poetry out of the mouth of a cowboy, inscribed among other quips and observations about life on the cattle trails lifting up from southern Texas and headed for the railheads at Kansas City and else where, and eventually to the slaughter yards in Chicago and New York. It is carved into the flagstones of a…
(Whole conversation carried out in earnest seriousness) “Excuse me, Sir, excuse me… Can you tell me where I can get a dog like that?” (Shuffles over) “Ysmm’ sir, you gotta go to the empty beer bottle competition booth. It’s a special one. We go there every year.” “Every year?” “Yes, sir, we have been coming…
Our flight into Fort Worth is a bumpy one – it looks like a hot day in Texas. As we swing from compass point to compass point we cut over railyards, sweeping freeways, sprawling acres of warehouses and endless suburbs. I think “this is a place of endless possibilities”, an indelible impression imprinted as we…