How can I tell I am not in America?
Example 1: I can't read the amounts on British coins without my glasses and I didn't bring my contacts. Many British coins are so worn that no one can read them. Which doesn't make any difference because everyone knows the size and shape of sub-pound coins. Would you have trouble telling a dime, quarter and penny apart, even if they were deeply worn? No. But since I'm not British, I wouldn't know a pence from a 50 pence if you paid me... well, 50 pence. So, if I have coins and when I am making a small purchase, I just hold them out and ask the clerk to pick out the correct amount. Would you do that in America? And if so, with what results?
Example 2: Many of the cars in the subways (aka the Tube or the Underground) are padded and upholstered. They are spotlessly clean and totally unmarred. How long would you give an upholstered seat in a New York subway? I think 20 minutes would be generous, before it was either marred or simply stolen.
The British are different.
To finish up Wednesday night: Harry Shearer mentioned on his radio program, LeShow, that he is working in a play in London called Daytona at the Royal Haymarket Theatre near Picadilly Circus. I went to see the play last night. It was a fascinating rumination on the Holocaust and people with sibling issues. The latter subject is close to my own heart. I was fascinated by the dynamic carried out on stage. The whole cast was excellent, but I particularly enjoyed Shearer whose television, movie and radio work I have enjoyed. Maybe someday he'll be an EGOT (Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony). It could happen!
When I got back home, I noticed (and recorded) the beautiful night view of Canary Wharf from my window, which I followed up with a day picture. I think it looks better at night.
Night picture of Canary Wharf
Day picture of Canary Wharf
Today is a day to relax. I went out this morning and bought two newspapers, a serious one (The Times) and a tabloid (The Sun) which means Rupert Murdoch scored off me twice today. I enjoyed The Telegraph yesterday, but it is a broadsheet. And not the measly broadsheet size like we have in the states, where the tiny New York Times of today (and most other metropolitan newspapers) are but pale shadows of the bedspread size newspapers they once were, before paper and ink got expensive and revenues got scarce.
It was sunny, bright and in the 60s when I got up this morning. Lovely weather for the brief walk to the convenience store. If only they'd had bananas. Today's schedule: relax, get a massage (at the spa on the first floor of the building), and attempt to get a ticket to the BBC Radio 4 News Quiz.