“Half memoir, half travel, A Yank Back to England...is an absolutely wonderful book, not only about going home again but also about love and family and tradition and the passage of the years.” —Michael Dirda, Pulitzer Prize-winning literary critic (Washington Post) To see the entire quote, click here.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
I'm a Limey Doodle Dandy
When I was about ten years old, I wanted my best friend to be a kid from an American TV show. Whether all of America was like Hollywood, or the other way around, I did not know or care. I just wanted to audition for it. I tried to be more American. I practiced for my role. I chewed gum, which I hated. I wore high top colored sneakers, which we called baseball boots and which got very smelly. I yearned for the blue jeans Mum would never buy me. Too rough, she said, look like a laborer! At least I could see the TV shows and avoid pullovers when I went out to play, even if it meant duckings of cold damp air.
Standing, from L to R: Lew (Dad), Frances (Prodigal Wife), Denis (The Prodigal Tourist), and Jessie (Mum). Floating: Kate (Prodigal Daughter).
About this blog
You are reading random vignettes, deleted scenes, and other extras from and about my book, A Yank Back to England: The Prodigal Tourist Returns. Enjoy, let me know what you think, ask questions, and thanks for your support! Cheers, The Prodigal Tourist
Years ago I shed my Cockney accent and left London's blighted East End for America. Since then, I’ve only returned to see my increasingly cantankerous parents and assorted relatives. Until my American wife comes along. She wants to tour, see the sights. No thank you. It’s not for me. But she insists, and I become a reluctant tourist in my former homeland.