My last day in the States. It's a work free day, so I'm slowly packing, and doing laundry, and packing the clean clothes, and watching TV, and packing the stuff I've bought for the girls, and generally killing time until I head off to the airport this afternoon.
Two weeks has at the same time gone quickly and ground out excruciatingly slowly. It's been rich with experience, and a genuinely eye-opening view into Another World. In reality, it's not too different from my quiet little life in New Zealand. But the subtle differences are profound, and sum up to the impression of something unique and strangely attractive.
Two experiences that illustrate what I mean.
Last night I went to a boutique concert at a vineyard not far from here. Chicago was playing. I’m not a big Chicago fan, the tickets were free, my colleagues invited me, and I had no better offers.
The setting was Country Club USA. You know the place; green green grass, manicured fairways of a golf course that rambles and intertwines itself through the complex, a carpark that look like a European car dealers forecourt, fresh-faced high schoolers in matching shorts and polo shirts promising to look after your every whim for the evening. For the concert, the stage was placed in view of a out door dining area, in a bowl shaped amphitheatre. The setting was intimate, but not so intimate that a quasi-rock band would be out of place. As the sun set, we ate, and drank the vineyards fare. Mercedes-Benz dealers worked the tables, offering friendly chit-chat and a reminder that the new range is, as always, stunning. Fairy lights in the trees became more apparent and conversation became easier with the complete strangers sharing the experience.
The crowd was wealthy. No doubt. White haired, tanned gentlemen with the unmistakable air of having no concerns about money. Their wives, dressed for a summer evening, even more tanned, dripping jewelry and good make-up. Successful thirty somethings, sunglasses hanging from the buttoning on their very carefully selected polo shirts. Their ladies also dressed for summer, and fast tracking their way to their older counterparts.
And strangely, my discomfort wasn't overwhelming. Maybe I'm very adaptable. Maybe I can get by without being too affected by the setting I find myself in. As an observer, the whole thing was wholly interesting. As a participant, it was fun.
After dinner, Chicago ground out a set of their greatest hits. No fan, I found out that I'm also no stranger to their music. Just as the setting was Anyplace USA, Chicago is Anyband USA, whose songs have been staples of the world pop culture that the US has led over the past three decades. Made-for-TV movies and Classic Hits radio stations all over the planet are built on the kind of band that Chicago are, and the kind of music they play.
After the concert, I got back to the hotel. I had left CNN on the TV, and walked into the build up of Barak Obama's nomination acceptance speech.
Sitting in my hotel room, I immersed myself in the second of my All American experiences of the night. I like to keep up to date with world politics, and there are very few, if any, countries in the world where a setting like what I watched from Denver could exist. Those from the commonwealth often look at America with those-bloody-yanks eyes. Always too over the top. Always putting themselves on a pedestal. Our stiff upper lip upbringing is severely confronted by the displays of whoop-whoops and the general speed and lack of tact with which an American delivers an opinion.
But the over-the-topness is exactly what had me engaged last night. The build-up. The anticipation.
And, in fairness, the moment.
Obama is to this generation what we hear Kennedy and Mandela and Gandhi and Churchill were to generations that have gone before us. There is a sense that when I hear Obama speak, I participating in history. Whether this man gets to be the leader of the Free World or not, the effect he has had on people is going to be remembered for a long time.
He is certainly the closest embodiment of a leader - someone to be followed - that I have seen. Not entirely sure why that is - and I think it's a sum-of-the-parts thing - but I'm looking forward to watching more of this man. And maybe learning a little something along the way.
Yes, Outside it’s America.
I'll finish this post, get up, finish packing, and count the seconds until my ride to the airport gets here and the Task of Travelling begins again. A task started is a task nearly done.
I am so very much looking forward to completing this Task. Love, I miss you so bad.
See you tomorrow.
Two weeks has at the same time gone quickly and ground out excruciatingly slowly. It's been rich with experience, and a genuinely eye-opening view into Another World. In reality, it's not too different from my quiet little life in New Zealand. But the subtle differences are profound, and sum up to the impression of something unique and strangely attractive.
Two experiences that illustrate what I mean.
Last night I went to a boutique concert at a vineyard not far from here. Chicago was playing. I’m not a big Chicago fan, the tickets were free, my colleagues invited me, and I had no better offers.
The setting was Country Club USA. You know the place; green green grass, manicured fairways of a golf course that rambles and intertwines itself through the complex, a carpark that look like a European car dealers forecourt, fresh-faced high schoolers in matching shorts and polo shirts promising to look after your every whim for the evening. For the concert, the stage was placed in view of a out door dining area, in a bowl shaped amphitheatre. The setting was intimate, but not so intimate that a quasi-rock band would be out of place. As the sun set, we ate, and drank the vineyards fare. Mercedes-Benz dealers worked the tables, offering friendly chit-chat and a reminder that the new range is, as always, stunning. Fairy lights in the trees became more apparent and conversation became easier with the complete strangers sharing the experience.
The crowd was wealthy. No doubt. White haired, tanned gentlemen with the unmistakable air of having no concerns about money. Their wives, dressed for a summer evening, even more tanned, dripping jewelry and good make-up. Successful thirty somethings, sunglasses hanging from the buttoning on their very carefully selected polo shirts. Their ladies also dressed for summer, and fast tracking their way to their older counterparts.
And strangely, my discomfort wasn't overwhelming. Maybe I'm very adaptable. Maybe I can get by without being too affected by the setting I find myself in. As an observer, the whole thing was wholly interesting. As a participant, it was fun.
After dinner, Chicago ground out a set of their greatest hits. No fan, I found out that I'm also no stranger to their music. Just as the setting was Anyplace USA, Chicago is Anyband USA, whose songs have been staples of the world pop culture that the US has led over the past three decades. Made-for-TV movies and Classic Hits radio stations all over the planet are built on the kind of band that Chicago are, and the kind of music they play.
After the concert, I got back to the hotel. I had left CNN on the TV, and walked into the build up of Barak Obama's nomination acceptance speech.
Sitting in my hotel room, I immersed myself in the second of my All American experiences of the night. I like to keep up to date with world politics, and there are very few, if any, countries in the world where a setting like what I watched from Denver could exist. Those from the commonwealth often look at America with those-bloody-yanks eyes. Always too over the top. Always putting themselves on a pedestal. Our stiff upper lip upbringing is severely confronted by the displays of whoop-whoops and the general speed and lack of tact with which an American delivers an opinion.
But the over-the-topness is exactly what had me engaged last night. The build-up. The anticipation.
And, in fairness, the moment.
Obama is to this generation what we hear Kennedy and Mandela and Gandhi and Churchill were to generations that have gone before us. There is a sense that when I hear Obama speak, I participating in history. Whether this man gets to be the leader of the Free World or not, the effect he has had on people is going to be remembered for a long time.
He is certainly the closest embodiment of a leader - someone to be followed - that I have seen. Not entirely sure why that is - and I think it's a sum-of-the-parts thing - but I'm looking forward to watching more of this man. And maybe learning a little something along the way.
Yes, Outside it’s America.
I'll finish this post, get up, finish packing, and count the seconds until my ride to the airport gets here and the Task of Travelling begins again. A task started is a task nearly done.
I am so very much looking forward to completing this Task. Love, I miss you so bad.
See you tomorrow.
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