Don't mention the war
We've all been there, of course: awkward social situations. Hackles are raised, your mellow has most assuredly been harshed, you're thinking, "I could really do with a glass of Scotch, you know, just to stiffen my nerves." Then you look down, only to discover that you are, in fact, already drinking a glass of Scotch.
A common enough situation. It happened to me the other week at an otherwise entirely pleasant "Brits in Portland" barbecue at Tamara's place. The annoying thing is that if only I had paid closer attention to Chapter XI of G.R.M. Deveruex's Etiquette for Men (1929), which clearly states, "...it is advisable to avoid certain subjects, such as religion and, generally, politics. A frank discussion on either of these subjects can be full of interest, but very often such a discussion develops into a heated argument which may end in loss of good feeling," none of this would have transpired. Having made the initial error of brokering a conversation with a local conspiracy theorist (bush planned 9/11, CIA runs global drug trade etc), I had inadvertently opened the floodgates on a rather disquieting leftfield polemic of quite un-british in-your-face frankness where, sadly, my trademark insouciance proved something of a red rag to a bull. Apparently, my general indifference was extremely provocative and before the night was out I had been clearly singled out as the crypto-fascist lapdog of a neo-conservative junta, a veritable Richard Littlejohn of the West Coast. Still, when you work for such radically subversive organisations as Intel, you probably do gain a different perspective on things. And, on the plus side, he had made a particularly good lime pickle.
Having survived Saturday, and bearing no more than a substantial hangover, I continued my genial saunter down the freeway of total world domination with all the energy I could muster; we took our niece to feed the ducks in Lake Oswego before decamping to the epicentre of post-colonial capitalist oppression (Washington Square Mall) for a trip to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate Linda's birthday. I cannot recommend the avocado spring rolls highly enough.
Thought for the day
James Blunt - not technically cockney rhyming slang, but he's ruined Starbucks for me.
A common enough situation. It happened to me the other week at an otherwise entirely pleasant "Brits in Portland" barbecue at Tamara's place. The annoying thing is that if only I had paid closer attention to Chapter XI of G.R.M. Deveruex's Etiquette for Men (1929), which clearly states, "...it is advisable to avoid certain subjects, such as religion and, generally, politics. A frank discussion on either of these subjects can be full of interest, but very often such a discussion develops into a heated argument which may end in loss of good feeling," none of this would have transpired. Having made the initial error of brokering a conversation with a local conspiracy theorist (bush planned 9/11, CIA runs global drug trade etc), I had inadvertently opened the floodgates on a rather disquieting leftfield polemic of quite un-british in-your-face frankness where, sadly, my trademark insouciance proved something of a red rag to a bull. Apparently, my general indifference was extremely provocative and before the night was out I had been clearly singled out as the crypto-fascist lapdog of a neo-conservative junta, a veritable Richard Littlejohn of the West Coast. Still, when you work for such radically subversive organisations as Intel, you probably do gain a different perspective on things. And, on the plus side, he had made a particularly good lime pickle.
Having survived Saturday, and bearing no more than a substantial hangover, I continued my genial saunter down the freeway of total world domination with all the energy I could muster; we took our niece to feed the ducks in Lake Oswego before decamping to the epicentre of post-colonial capitalist oppression (Washington Square Mall) for a trip to the Cheesecake Factory to celebrate Linda's birthday. I cannot recommend the avocado spring rolls highly enough.
Thought for the day
James Blunt - not technically cockney rhyming slang, but he's ruined Starbucks for me.
posted by Richard Tammar at 4:15 PM
1 Comments:
James Blunt - makes me nostalgic for Coldplay on heavy rotation (almost...)
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