The 'Britionary'

Note to self: When talking to American friends/colleagues, never, EVER say: “I’m just popping out for a fag…”

While my English friends will understand the true meaning of this sentence, people here will take an entirely different meaning from it.

And believe me, it’s not good.

Not a day passes when I – as a Brit – seem to say something which is deemed to be a). ridiculous; b). hilarious; or c). just plain weird.

For the past nine months living and working here in San Diego I’ve been a constant source of entertainment – which probably explains why I’m on TV.

Language is the very glue which holds society together.

Without it, things break down, so you have to adjust.

And I, hosting not one but two TV shows to an American audience, have had to adapt to survive.

It’s no good looking the part if no-one actually understands you right?

I must admit, I rarely get recognized out and about in San Diego but when I do those people often say something along the lines of “that’s that guy on the TV that talks weird...”

I can’t tell you how annoying it is, day-after-day, to be told that the way I talk, write or spell is “wrong”.

I’m a journalist – an award-winning one at that. I’ve been writing articles for like 16 years so I’m used to having my copy edited for print.

I’m not ‘wrong’ in the way I communicate, I just do so differently.

And I’m not just talking about the way I communicate in work. It’s at the supermarket, it’s in the phone store, it’s on the bus, it’s in a bar or in a Subway. It’s everywhere.

Sometimes I feel like pointing out that the ‘English’ language originally came from… (I’ll give you a clue – it wasn’t Mississippi).

But then of course I’d come across as being a typical Englishman thinking I’m better than the rest.

*swimming against the tide here pal.
Anyhow, like I said... I've had to adapt and incorporate certain 'Americanisms' into my own language.
So if you do notice me stumbling from time to time while reading the news, you'll understand that it's because I'm saying words I've never said before, in an order I've never said them!

It seems even my keyboard which I’m typing this very blog on, is against me.

With each new sentence or word it wants to correct me because it thinks the English words I’m writing are meant to be spelt in the American-English way.

Grr.

Living and working in the U.S. is just not easy for a foreigner.

The British and the Americans are very similar, but we’re very different at the same time.

Everything I’ve ever known is almost the same… it’s just called something different or it’s labeled differently.

Here they have ‘T.J. Maxx’, not ‘TK Maxx’ as we know it.
'Nike' is pronounced 'Nikee'.

Firefighters ‘put down’ flames rather than ‘put them out’.
A house isn't 'burgled' here, it's 'burglarised'.
'Bangs' is a 'fringe' (as in hair).
A 'gas station' is the equivalent of our 'petrol station'.

An 'ATM' is a cash machine. 'ATM' is also... oh... never mind.
A 'cell phone' is a 'mobile phone'.
The date is written in a way that has the month FIRST rather than the actual day's date.
More often than not the Americans seem to pronounce them ‘vee-hickles’ rather than simply ‘vehicles’.

The term ‘scrummage’ in rugby is called ‘scrimmage’ in American football.

A hashtag, or ‘#’, is known as the ‘pound sign’ when of course we British know the ‘pound sign’ as being !@#$%^&*()_ - nope, my keyboard doesn’t actually have the pound sign installed as a key.

Another thing I’ve learned about our U.S. cousins is that they simply don’t understand the concept of ‘mushy’ peas.

“So… they are peas that have been flattened and ‘mushed’ up right?”

Um, yes… I guess.

“Why not just buy normal peas and flatten them with a fork?”

They’re not the same.

“Why?”

You know, I just don’t know.

In the States people also measure weight in pounds.

This led to a rather bizarre, but funny, conversation last month when someone asked me what we British weigh ourselves in.

“Stones,” I said.

“You actually weigh yourselves in STONES?!”

Er… not the stones you’re thinking of mate… we have progressed a little since the Stone Age.

I can imagine that the move to the States a few years ago suited David Beckham more than most as he never really had a grip on the English language in the first place...

Oof.

"Our problem is our ignorance," an American colleague told me.

"Living in the 'United States of America' we don’t really need to adapt. Generally we all talk the same… We're just not really used to looking anywhere else but within.

"We don't generally deal with anyone else. And that makes us ignorant."

We laughed and joked about it, but he's ultimately right.

And the same can be said for the English.

In one of his celebrated shows the British comedian, Eddie Izzard, made light of the fact that the English are known to travel abroad to places like Spain and France and simply talk ‘English’ expecting the local people to understand and reply.

Of course when the local people don’t understand, the English response is typically “well, you’re just not trying are you…?”

In a bid poke a little fun at my own expense, and to educate a few people over here, I invented the ‘Britionary’ a little while ago.

We did a whole series of them on U-T TV.

Here are a few:
- www.youtube.com/watch?v=znjs_lkw_Ho
- www.youtube.com/watch?v=hSF_8110DQU
- www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6De7kWlIEk
- www.youtube.com/watch?v=wR7kpqlQZBE

As frustrating as this language barrier can be, it is - like I said - a constant source of amusement as I and my American pals learn from each other.

There is also no end to banter, especially after a few drinks.

Cheers!

Or Salute!

Or bottoms up!

Or whatever the hell it's referred to here.

Happy new year everyone.

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world...

THERE can surely be fewer crazier places in the world than the United States of America.

I've come to this conclusion after spending four months living here in San Diego - referred to as 'America's Finest City'.

The people, the politics, the language, the food, the habits, the thinking... it's all a bit strange to me, as an outsider.

Many people would think a Brit moving to the US would find himself right at home, with many things being familiar.

However the reality is that things, although similar, are ever so slightly different.

Of course over here different states can be governed by different rules, much the same way as the different countries in the United Kingdom can be governed differently within the United Kingdom.

But everyday things here in the promised land, are often bizarre and notably surreal through foreign eyes.

The big story here in the last couple of months has surrounded San Diego's Mayor, Bob Filner, or 'Filthy Filner' as he has been seemingly correctly labelled.

Bob Filner AKA 'The Joker'

You literally couldn't have made the story up.

Here goes... two months ago a woman came forward accusing him of sexual harassment.

At least a further 17 came forward over the coming weeks.

Accusations were wide and varied citing touching, forcible kisses and lurid comments.
He reportedly told one woman: "You would do better work if you didn't wear panties".
He reportedly asked another woman: "When are you going to get naked?" Followed by: "Come on and give me a kiss".
All while he held the mayoral office in America's eighth largest city.
Oh, and did I mention that he's 70 years old?!

And one of the accusers is a great-grandmother, and another a retired Navy admiral.

Gross.

In the midst of all the accusations Filner apologised to his accusers, but denied ever sexually harassing them. His fiancee left him. And she called for him to resign.

Slowly but surely everyone (mostly everyone anyway) called for him to resign. Even the bums on the street - who I still seem to accidentally get into conversations with - echoed the calls through mumbled largely incoherent speech.

So amid these calls for resignation, he organised and hosted a press conference.

The nation's press assembled expecting to hear him say he was stepping down from his high-profile position.

Mayor Filner feeling the pressure

Instead, he apologised for his actions and announced he was planning to undergo two weeks of behavioural therapy at a clinic.

While as you can imagine, that didn't go down too well with the public and officials alike, he then revealed that he expected taxpayers to pay for the counselling.

His argument for San Diego footing the bill was that the city had failed to provide him with compulsory sexual harassment training when he came to office.

This of course resulted in his inability to prevent himself from carrying out the 'Filner dance', and putting one of his female staff in a headlock before making the 'panties' comment.

He also made some egotistical power-hungry claim that the city "needs" him.

Some stories are hard to follow-up. This story, as my editor succinctly described it at the time, was (for a newspaper) the 'gift that keeps on giving'.

And in terms of story content and features, he's right.

Earlier this week, rather than simply standing outside City Hall like every other reporter in town, I hosted a small tea party outside his office, inviting him to join us for a cuppa and a clear-the-air chat.

Of course, he didn't show.

Surprise surprise... a no-show from Filner

It's been the talk of the town for what seems like forever.

All political views aside, it's just unbelievable right?

He resigned today (Friday 23rd August) and, during his resignation speech, accused the media of acting like a 'lynch mob'.

It begs the question... so why resign if you're innocent?

One lawsuit has been filed by one of the accusers. And reports are now surfacing that a criminal investigation is already under way.

People here have asked me... "Would this sort of thing happen in England?"

And it just wouldn't. I think his house would have been burned to the ground long before he entered therapy. The British press - notorious for attacking supposed wrong-doers - would have had a field day tracking his every single move and making his life a walking nightmare.

Anyhow, enough about politics.

Did you know that in most parts of California you can get a note from a specialist doctor which allows you to buy 'medicinal marijuana' legally?

Thought not.

Many a day on my way to work I've walked past a group of relaxed bums in the park staring into space through a herbal haze.

Many a day I've also hoped that the strong-smelling clouds of weed smoke haven't immersed themselves in my work clothes thus leading my boss to question my 'extra-curricular' activities.

If the fact it's legal here in much of California (yes California... not Amsterdam) with a doctor's note isn't bizarre enough, ponder this nugget of information... you can actually call a pot shop and have someone deliver cookies, hash, weed or other variations of the drug to your front door - just like a pizza delivery service.

It has got to be a stoner's dream.

Ding dong (goes the doorbell)... I have an eighth of golden slumber cross hybrid variant for you sir.

An hour later... Ding dong (goes the doorbell again)... Good evening... I have six large pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese, seventeen tubs of chocolate fudge ice cream, and fourteen chocolate brownies.

Oh, meal for one sir?

I'm surprised Cypress Hill, Ziggy Marley and Snoop Dogg (sorry... Lion) haven't moved to town.

California goes 'green'

Having a quick scan online there are literally dozens of shops (actually officially referred to as 'medical marijuana dispensaries') across San Diego county. (My favourite name for a pot-shop-related website has to be 'toke of the town').

A San Diego 'weed map'

Most websites boast actual menus which you can order from, again... much like a takeaway restaurant.

Have crime rates fallen in San Diego because of the relaxation of the law? Who knows.

Apparently the law to allow medical marijuana use in San Diego was passed 17 years ago.

But in a city that's trying its best to help the environment... it seems to be getting a head start in other 'green' ways.

Can't say I've ever been a fan, preferring a pint or two of Guinness over a herbal remedy, but hey... each to their own.

Living in a city of about 3.1 million people (roughly five times the size of my home city of Plymouth in the UK), things are always going to be a bit different.

Crime in a bigger city will always be, well… a bigger deal - especially with the crazy gun laws here in the US.

The mere mention of a ‘gun’ at a crime scene would have resulted in front page news for my old newspaper, The Herald, for a week.

Here, a weapon sighting wouldn’t even feature in the city’s newspaper.

Example… a couple of months ago my cameraman and I were tasked with reporting from the scene of a police chase.

The brief we were given mentioned that a ‘known felon’ had been identified and chased across San Diego by police officers during the night.

The high-speed chase ended when the felon crashed his 4x4 into a wall across the road from a quiet residential area opposite a shopping centre.

When we arrived at the scene a San Diego Police Department (SDPD) spokesman revealed that the felon emerged from the car and began shooting at police officers with a shotgun, peppering the marked police car with shot pellets.

Shortly after, he was shot and killed by officers at the scene.

The true extent of the danger emerged when officers searched his car and found eight ‘pipe bombs’.

Naturally bomb disposal experts were called and the man’s body remained in full public view until after sunrise the next morning.

Wowzers.

At that moment I realized once again I was a loooooong way from home.

Here in the US the voices are louder, the burgers are bigger, and the crimes are, well… they’re just crazy.

Further evidence of that? Here’s an edited version of a few story snippets from the last week in San Diego:

a). SDPD says a man shot three times in back showed up at a hospital tonight;

b). Shooting at about 5.40pm at a two-storey motel; a man barged into a room and pistol-whipped another man, gun went off, striking victim in the hand;

c). Woman’s body found behind dumpster at Vista strip mall;

d). Arrest in San Diego in relation to 2005 killing of girl in Tijuana who was thrown from a vehicle with hands and feet bound.

And San Diego is widely regarded as one of the safest cities in the US!

It is indeed a mad, mad, mad, mad world... and here, in the US, it's up there with the craziest.

But you know what? There's never a dull moment in this city.

And, as a journalist, you have got to love it!!!

Who knows what tomorrow will bring...

@tristan_nichols