The excellent spring weather – what actually qualifies as summer in London; the next stop is dreary autumn – has seemingly spread across the Channel, and we are finally wearing short sleeves, having dinners on the deck in the garden, and deceiving ourselves with “British climate is not so bad” sentiment.
I am actually spending the best hours of the day in office, since most of my current job has to do with the States, so I am lightly occupied until about 1:30, and then very heavily through the afternoon, eventually peeling myself away from the issue of the day at around seven. Good thing it does not get dark until after nine. On the bright side, my parents are extremely lucky to be able to rediscover London – walking for hours, no less, – in such pristine conditions.
In the meantime, I have reached new heights in my blogging career. What else would you call acquiring a critic who not only looks for opportunities to post corrections to my musings, but explicitly states that he aims to “sway” people who read my blog away from my ostensibly poisonous conclusions.
The blog entries that gave rise to my critic’s ire are some of my older discourses on my expatriate experiences, our first taste of NHS medical service, my reflection on strikes and the introduction of the British TV license. The latter induced a singularly superfluous correction from this new correspondent, while the former led him to questioning my use of vocabulary.
It was on the subject of strikes that we actually had an argument. Although the point of the post in question was hardly how many strikes England has in comparison with the US, I did make enough of a statement that I consider England to be too strike-happy for my taste. My esteemed adversary sought to prove the error of my views by presenting a broad statistic that seemed to show Britain unintuitively the most peaceful of all major industrial nations in terms of average days on strike. When I dismissed the quoted stats as discordant with my personal experiences, quite enjoyable verbal sparring followed.
The email address that this visitor to my blog used was not an actual email, but rather a handle at an internet forum. He – the handle leads me to believe it’s a he (curiously, it’s a Russian noun of male gender) – did not sign with a name. The least I could do was to go and register at the forum, A forum for Americans and Brits, and introduce myself to the community from the point of view of desiring to broaden the reach of my supposedly delusional views. There is nothing quite like a discovery of a virgin territory to spread my gospel…
Oh, wait! I hardly ever do any rants… What gospel?… Getting carried away a bit here…