Getting to Grips with America - continued

 Scotland

Teens

In the teenage years of the 1950s, this love-affair with America continued and grew stronger.

In our school atlases, we learned where America was; and of course, we all became aware that America had won the 2nd World War all by itself!! We had seen Audi Murphy do so (a real genuine hero, by the way) and countless other film stars, like Richard Widmark and, yes, Big John Wayne. We were also aware these film stars were carving out fabulous careers and making lumps of money while doing so—boy, the envy this instilled. 

Uncles and aunts, however, who during the war had rubbed shoulders with Americans in London (you couldn't find them anywhere else, other than there and on American bases) informed us of how decent these real people were—and of their nylons, the chewing gum and of the clothes they wore, better than anything you could find at home.

Then there was the music that was coming out of America. It was magical: the crooners—yes, even Crosby and Sinatra—Perry Como, Nat King Cole; the big dance bands, Artie Shaw, Benny Goodman; and earlier, Glen Miller, whose death saddened us all. Swing, be-bop and JAZZ; 'heh, man, that Louis Armstrong was really somethin'. Ella Fitzgerald, her voice was just incredible—still is on CD. During my later teens, which were closely aligned with my introduction to girls and dance halls, the American influx just kept a comin': stars like Johnnie Ray, Kay Starr, Frankie Lane and Guy Mitchell kinda headed my list.

It was not really the same, however, with early motor cars. The 'Tin Lizzies' that Henry Ford's factories were pouring out were quite unfamiliar to us, as were all the others coming out of Detroit: the Packards, Buicks, Lincolns, and so on. We saw then in the many films depicting American family life; and they were integral to the lives of city gangsters being portrayed in the movies. Like the detached homes and the city skyscrapers they inhabited, these were all unfamiliar. Instead, we were driving our own wonderful cars: the Rovers, Bentleys (some hope!), Austins and Morrises. 

My dad had managed to acquire a 1937 Rover, a beautiful model, with running boards along the sides, doors that opened from the front, and a boot that was modelled with a wheel-shaped space to carry the spare. 

I passed my driving test in that car, but not before my old grandfather had knocked down a line of wall that belonged to the tallest men in Scotland — two brothers who almost reached the 8 foot mark!! Damage to the car? Well, nothing visible—she was made of solid stuff—only a bent track-rod end. Can't say the same about the wall!!

American mores were now completely familiar to us; and their everyday customs easily competed with the like of England's Tommy Handley. Mind you, he was stupendous in his own right, especially in the wonderful ITMA ('Its That Man Again') programme from London that we heard on the 'Cat's Whiskers' (battery radio). 

American jokes and slang were much more welcome—and definitely more often heard in the streets— than 'Wullie' Shakespeare—though 'The Sonnets' and the major plays made a deeper impression than I cared to admit then. 

The American shows also easily beat the Gilbert and Sullivan productions, like The Mikado that we were forced to watch (or participate in) at school. Funny, though, we never could speak with an authentic American voice—apart from 'stick 'em up' or 'reach for your gun' - kinda like Mel Gibson today trying on a Scottish brogue while being William Wallace, our national hero.

By this time, we adolescents understood better just how vital the American entry to the war had been: of Pearl Harbour and the truly brutal struggle against the Japanese: of Guadalcanal and Mid-Way. 

Newspapers were full of the North Africa campaign, followed by the ferocious fighting around Salerno and Monte Cassino, then onwards through Italy. Thankfully came the D-Day landings and the beginning of the end for the Nazis. 

It took a little longer for the Japanese surrender—and, of course, there was very little understanding regarding the fearsome weapon of war that ended things in the east. It soon became very clear, however, that the Atom bomb really signified the future course of mankind, of whether or not the human species would survive..

Our comprehension of the films, of comics ('Superman' especially) of the music and magazines emanating from America, was now much more advanced. We had more perspective, with advancing years, of the shape of events; though this did not negate our appreciation of the heroic American effort (of civilians as well as the fighting men and women); and that their endeavours had worked to our benefit. 

Now, however, we understood better what we too had accomplished; and also the tragic sacrifices made by the then USSR. The funny thing was that at that stage of life I had never ever seen a real live American, far less speak to one

.

However, though all the splendid things continued to gush forth from that fabled land beyond the Atlantic, such as: the promise of success, and assurances of progress and achievement for all, it was getting a bit more complicated, and difficult to have a fixed viewpoint on things. 

We had to work our way around Hiroshima and Nagasaki, evaluate the Cold War roles and the Berlin Airlift. It also became necessary to come to grips with a pivotal shift that had taken place in world affairs: the replacing of British, French and German overlordshhip with that of America and the USSR. It became imperative that we learning how these countries ruled themselves—and now us.

The checks and balances in the US system gained full marks: Separation of the Supreme Court from other branches, the Bill of Rights and the introduction of the 1st Amendment, all of this was excellent. 

But, why were coloured people still being treated this way: the segregation, hangings and hate. An awful lot of them had been killed and maimed during the war years, fighting for their country and for freedom; and still were—in every war that sprang up afterwards, from Korea onwards. Yet a black man couldn't walk into the front lobby of a grand hotel back home. 

We 'aliens' (how I hate being pigeon-holed by this word) could only scratch our heads at this, being powerless to do anything about it; but to say we regretted what was happening would be false—we hated it. This was a side of the America that had saved us with its intervention in the war (and that we cared for) which we did not like.

Newsreels now told their own story of the sheer power of the American dollar and of US military might throughout the world; of Britain's humiliation over Suez, when America pulled a few strings. 

Still, the US might have gone back into 'Splendid Isolation'. Instead, 'Old Joe' Stalin, until his death in 1954, knew what he was up against if he tried to muscle further west. It was a blow, nevertheless, that not even 'Uncle Sam' could prevent the atrocities of the Hungarian and then the Czechoslovakian uprisings, or help out.

Towards the end of the 1950s, there is little doubt that the nuclear presence at Faslane, on the Holy Loch, sitting on the outskirts of Glasgow, when combined with the rise of CND, soured further our regard for America's leaders. 

Nobody likes the idea of being a target for hostile forces to aim at; and with a population of millions on the doorstep it began to be asked whether the American military were more concerned with their own far-flung security than the support they had experienced from these 'cute' people in 'Scatland'. 

It is still a very live issue—the submarines, with their lethal warheads are still there, with the millions and millions required to keep them up-to-date emptying our pockets - and their dismissal providing a rallying point for Scottish independence.

to be continued...

Getting to grips with America

In the Beginning

My earliest recollection of the word 'America' was probably when I was about four years old (1943)—the middle of the 2nd World War. Mum and dad were talking about 'America becoming involved—though I didn't know any 'America' and didn't understand who or what he she or it was involved with, or what he she or it was involved in.

Another memory— now about six years old—of smashing films: Westerns, with Tom Mix, Gene Autry, Hopalong Cassidy (my favourite) and his horse, Topper; Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney in all sorts of horror films.

Mid-day matinees on a Saturday where, at the end of the film the hero was hanging by his finger-tips from a cliff, and we were told to return next week to see what happened—i.e. the original "cliff hanger". Then there were Laurel and Hardy, Chaplin, Ben Turpin, Harold Lloyd—and the guy with the dead-pan face, Buster Keaton—all of them marvellous. I saw every one.

It cost two, 2lb jam jars, to enter the village cinema for the First House of the evening. (Cinema was not the right word for the Welfare Hall; it was more commonly referred to as 'Billy's Bug House'). Two of our very scarce pennies paid for the late evening performance.

Oh, how I loved these films; and then, when colour came some years later and John Wayne strutted about, surrounded by the beauty of Arizona—'wow, that was something else'—as we learned to say.
We became good at copying a speech that was so new to us. '

The Wizard of Oz'; Disney's 'Fantasia' and 'Snow White'; 'Gone with the Wind'—yes, this was America; and I don't think my juvenile view of what was the real United States of America—courtesy of Hollywood— has ever really changed. Well, maybe it has—a little.

You see, all this adoration was not that of a kid actually living in the United States, it was taking place thousands of miles away from America. I and my comrades lived in the scattered villages that populated 'the badlands' of Scotland's central belt; among the slag-heaps, surrounded by the pock-marked landscape of the coalfields.

We young ruffians would imitate our heroes, like Jimmy Cagney, with his rapid-fire speech: 'You dirty rat, bang, bang.' (I know, I know, he didn't really say it). Pat O'Brian's tired-faced detective, and his equally rapid-fire returns, made us goggle then imitate. Did people really talk like that, we wondered?

It would have made no difference where we kids lived in Scotland, however, because American films and comics dominated everyone's imagination—adults as well. Cowboys and Indians, bows and arrows, tomahawks and Bowie knives; these vied with beautiful chorus girls, and brassy, gum-chewing 'broads'.

This tidal wave of American culture made certain that scenarios, such as the musicals these girls decorated—and the music that brought it all to life—would live in our hearts forever.

Why was this so, you may ask? It was a question easily answered by anyone you spoke to in Britain, during and immediately after the war.

Britain had become just as dependent upon America, in a cultural sense, as she was in material things. Sure, the Marshall Plan was probably the saving of us—even as young school kids some of us knew that—but it was the enriching picture of life in America, seen in these films, that enthralled.

You should have seen mum's face when she first came across washing machines, and 'hoovers' that cleaned the floor—labour-saving devices of every kind. What an effect all that had!

Unquestionably, they talked funny, these Americans, but were easy to listen to and understand—more like us than these 'pesky' Continentals, who gabbled away, making some sort of noise we couldn't make out.

The connection was most definitely transatlantic; there were huge gulfs between us and the Europeans, more than just the language problem.

Also, the fact that the Germans, who had been our enemies for so long, were Europeans was something that kept being presented to us in films, newspapers, classrooms and general chatter. They were still the foe unfortunately,  in what remained of the 1940s and early 1950s.

Then there was another factor that came into play that favoured the Americans. They didn't particularly like the English either!

We Scots knew who our traditional enemy was. Didn't we win at Bannockburn; show them how to play football (soccer) and beat them consistently, even though they outnumbered us 10:1.

It rankled that BBC radio (no TV then) consistently 'spoke down' to us in Received Pronounciation; in fact they did so to anyone who was not of the 'Home Counties' or a 'London gel'.

Similar to the 'provincial' English, who were shown in a servile light as well, we Scots were presented as of a sub-culture and always in some menial position.

To many in power in Southern England, we had no class or breeding. A Scot was used to portray almost every scene of drunkeness in films.

Had the English never understood the satire in the film 'Whisky Galore'?

Another good thing about 'The Yanks' was that they were having none of this 'class' stuff that dominated English life ('I know my place, Sur!')—and neither were we.

'Yankee Doodle Dandy' seemed to march quite happily alongside 'Wha' Dare Meddle Wi' Me'.
We liked the Yanks - well, at least the ones portrayed on film. We still didn't really know the real America.

[To be continued]

Growing Old Gracefully

The Future of Using the Human Growth Hormone

This excerpt from an article about what might happen in the future after more research is done captured my attention. Let’s hope the further research is profitable.

“The findings in this study are consistent with the hypothesis that the decrease in lean body mass, the increase in adipose-tissue mass, and the thinning of the skin that occur in older men are caused in part by reduced activity of the growth hormone—IGF-I axis, and can be restored in part by the administration of human growth hormone.

The effects of six months of human growth hormone on lean body mass and adipose-tissue mass were equivalent in magnitude to the changes incurred during 10 to 20 years of aging.
Among the questions that remain to be addressed are the following: What will be the benefits and what will be the nature and frequency of any adverse effects when larger numbers of elderly subjects and other doses of human growth hormone are studied?

What organs are responsible for the increase in lean body mass, and do their functional capacities change as well?

Only when such questions are answered can the possible benefits of human growth hormone in the elderly be explored. Since atrophy of muscle and skin contributes to the frailty of older people, the potential benefits of growth hormone merit continuing attention and investigation.”

AM I STILL ALIVE??