Harry the King

If you travel to Disneyland Paris (see my previous blog entry) by rail (as I did), the Eurostar trip is a themed attraction in itself. The problem is you never know what the theme will be until you are well on your way. For Ronan and me, the trip out could certainly be termed the 'Rude-People-With-Their-Oversized-Baggage' ride — loads of people shoving their way to the doors before the train even stops. Then when it actually does, blocking the doors with their baggage for a good five minutes. Lovely! And so considerate of others.

The theme of the return trip is usually predictable. Full of exhausted and yet completely hyped-up children, I would call it 'It's a Smalls World from Hell'. It has no international flavour (although I sometimes think Kent should be a foreign country), but plenty of under-sized 'persons' who have been convinced that the world — canal boats, trains and all — revolves around them. There was the 8 year-old* who the moment she sat down said, 'Daddy, I'm bored. What can I do?' Luckily, she found something to do; that was, fight with her 3 year-old sister for most of the journey. Then there was the 3 year-old across the aisle from me who swung on the arm of her seat so much, that she finally fell and banged her head pretty badly, judging from the screams she produced. At which point, her mother took her in her arms, cuddled her and soothed her 'ouchie'. Why this woman could not make her daughter stop swinging on the arm rest in the first place, is beyond me. Perhaps it's simply easier and more rewarding to say 'there, there' after the fact, than to say 'no' to begin with. But by far the most interesting of our fellow 'passengers' was Harry. Now, Harry must have been about four years old, and I know Harry's name because every ten minutes I heard someone in his party say, 'Sit down, Harry.' or "Harry, dear, why don't you sit down?' or 'Let's all sit down, Harry, shall we?' Never once did Harry sit down. He stood by his seat (which was right in front of mine); he walked up and down the aisle; he poked his finger into the face of the girl across the aisle, who had by then recovered from her 'ouchie'. But, sitting down, or listening to anything his minders said, seemed to be completely outside of Harry's abilities; and it seemed beyond their abilities or willingness to simply pick Harry up and plant his little bottom on the seat.

I got to thinking what things must be like at home. Harry must be an utter tyrant. How many times do his parents/carers have to tell him to sit down, eat his food, pick up his toys, play nicely, not pull the dog's tail, not use the crayolas on the nice new wallpaper? But more than that, how does little Harry ever know he has done something wrong? How does he ever learn to deal with the frustration which comes when we don't get our own way? And I wonder what prevents the adults in Harry's life from keeping appropriate boundaries and from confronting Harry's behaviour? I have known for a long time that we are producing an entire generation of people who have been so 'affirmed', that they will never be able to deal effectively with the real disappointment that comes from having their desires denied, or from being plainly and unquestionably wrong. Hopefully, someone will help Harry to realise that he is the centre only of his small world, before the big world teaches it to him the hard way.

*Please note, all ages are a reasonable guess. Sometimes you just can't tell. I have seen 45 year-olds behave as if they were 6.

Yo Ho! The Pirates Aren't PC

Thanks to my friend Ronan, I was at Disneyland Paris last weekend for my birthday. It's a great park, incredibly beautifully thought-out and detailed, and with so much space that the original Magic Kingdom in Anaheim would be dwarfed. (However, please understand, the Anaheim park is still the best!)

Something that pleasantly surprised me which I had not noticed on my previous visits is that the Pirates of the Caribbean have not been PC'd up. For those of you not as mad about Disneyland as I and some of my friends (you know who you are, Ange), that means that the pirates are still chasing the women after the bride sale scene. Confused? Let me explain. In the original ride there a scene in which the pirates after entering the town and kidnapping the mayor, hold a 'bride' auction, selling the townswomen to the highest bidder. In the following scene there were various scenarios of the pirates chasing the women, and one wimpy pirate being chased by an amorously inclined fat (it was un-PC so I can simply say 'fat') woman. About 15 years ago there was a re-vamp of the ride and the women now had trays of food in their hands. From this we were supposed to conjecture that the men weren't chasing the women, they were chasing the food. Gluttony was clearly more acceptable than lust. On my latest visit, I noticed that these scenarios had again been changed and now the women are chasing the men, who are themselves now carrying the plates of food, the inference being that they are attempting to steal it. Again, stealing and looting is more acceptable than lust and even gluttony. (Maybe the rising obesity among Americans had something to do with this.) In Paris not only do the pirates still chase the women, but two new scenes are added: one in shadow-play where two pirates pull and shove at a women as they fight over her; in the other two audio-animatronic pirates carry on a sword fight to win a particular women who stands by crying. Lust is still d'accord.

As an ex-pat you get a particularly outsider's perspective on your home country, because you see it both through the eyes of the foreigner, but with the upbringing of the native. Living in the UK, one aspect of American culture which has become blatantly clear to me is that for Americans sex is the great bugbear which it is simply is not for Europeans For example, when the Clinton/Lewinski affair occurred the French could not get their heads round why it was such a big issue — French politicians are expected to have mistresses. On the other hand, Europeans tend to find Americans' obsession and over-consumption of food particularly — how shall I say it? — distasteful. Europeans relished Super-Size Me not only as a indictment of the America's fast-food industry, but as a satire on America's gluttonous eating habits. So, for Americans, the pirates could not possibly be chasing the women! What message would we be sending out? Chasing food is alright. It's what you would expect. But chasing the women is beyond the pale. For Europeans, it just isn't an issue and chasing the food would be rather non-sensical (as I am sure that it is to some of the Disney die-hards — we know who we are, don't we Ange?).

You Gotta Have Friends

Last week I met with two friends that I have known for years. The first I have known since the first month that I moved to London in 1993, the other for almost ten years. To add to that my friend Michele was visiting from the States over Christmas. Michele and I figure that we have known each other now for almost 20 years, and 15 years of that have been with our living thousands of miles apart. With all this, it is no surprise I have been thinking about friendships, particularly how I am beginning more and more to prefer the company of old friends, than the work and effort which developing new friendships entails. There was a time when forming new friendships held a great excitement for, but that feeling has considerably waned.  It is now so pleasantly comfortable to be with people who have known me and whom I have known for a long time. With them there is no need to re-tell my life story, or explain the various roads (and cul-de-sacs) I have walked.

No one's life is a straight line; and the older we get the more paths and detours we have taken. What is wonderful about old friends is that they have been there walking alongside most of them and so their knowledge of them is first-hand.  They do not need to have related the narrative which develops out of interpreted retrospection. For the most part they were eye-witnesses. Years of knowing one another has given us 'long-distance' vision.  We know the real difficulties which life has thrown into the way of our of individual lives, and hopefully can be more forgiving of each other's foibles, and idiosyncrasies - the  particular ways in which the vicissitudes of life have shaped us and damaged us.  Long-distance vision also gives the authority to point out how the other has changed — for good or for ill; and because there is love, to do so in with kindness and charity.

So, to you who are my long-term friends - you know who you are: 'Thanks'.  I am who I am because of you.  Contnue being loving, honest and compassionate - and saving me from telling over and over the complicated story of my life

Women of Passion

If you have not heard of TED Talks, I highly recommend checking out their website (www.ted.com).  TED is an organisation that holds an annual conference and asks some of the most brilliant thinkers of our time to 'give the talk of their lives' in under 18 minutes.  One of the most recent ones posted on their website was by the Chilean novelist, Isabel Allende.  I am not ashamed to say: it moved me to tears.  She spoke with passion about passion - her passion for the medium of story (which is 'truer than truth') and her passionate feelings about being involved in the opening ceremonies of the 2006 Winter Olympics in Italy. She spoke with power and conviction also about her commitment to feminism and the need for a continued awareness of women's issues globally.  I am loathe to repeat here long parts of her talk but some facts bare highlighting: 80% of all refugees and displaced persons are women or children, women do 2/3 of the world's labour, but own less than 1% of the world's assets, they are paid less if paid at all.  They are still in many parts of the world forced into marriage, forced into pregnancy, abused, raped and killed with impunity.  She wonders what kind of world could be created if women were truly liberated, truly empowered.  Being 51% of the world's population, empowering them, she say, would 'change everything.'

I also heard another woman speak in the past week.  She was the Most Reverend Katherine Jefferts Schori, the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church. She did not speak about feminism, but she spoke with a quiet and calm passion about the community over which she presides and its commitment to justice, dialogue and transparency.  I have no doubt that the election of Jefferts Schori as presiding bishop is the kind of empowerment for women to which Allende was alluding, the kind of empowerment which can 'change everything', and which will undoubtedly prove to be a great blessing for the Church.