sent from: London, UK. destination: Chicago, Illinois, USA

I believe in America.
So begins The Godfather, one of the greatest stories about American integration. I love America.
I always liked it, I grew up with its stories and ideas and words and food in the form of my mother, whose cultural ideals were frozen in 1961 when she left the USA. After I lived there (past tense, how strange) for 15 years, give or take, I made a few stories of my own. It’s hard not to feel slightly ambivalent about the 4th of July – no greater statement than the declaration of ones own independence – but at what cost of struggle and cruelty and violence. The loss of the US colonies is equally a sore point in the national myth of England – growing up in the UK you can consume what comes out of the USA but beware of liking it too much. Plus, all those guns! And those accents! And all those overweight, uncouth people! But, enough about the South West train to Waterloo.
“Just don’t pick up that awful accent”, I was told when I moved to the USA. Well, I got the twang, and more.
Happy Fourth of July