Saturday, May 3, 2008

Touring the World With Two Accents and an Attitude


What do you get when you cross Baby Elmo with the Omen, then throw in the Monty Python troop for good measure?

My husband, thats who.

Known in his native UK for being a silent, studious, and somber man, Moisha, at 55, made the suprising decision (suprising to his family anyway, because he hadn't spoken to anyone in weeks) to leave it all and start over in the new world.

I am not sure if the pod people had gotten him by then, or if it happened on the plane.

The man I met a few years later had certainly learned to talk.

He hasn't shut the hell up in years.

And somber? The guy who is currently doing a version of Hebrew line-dancing behind me, clad only in green boxers which say "Fragile"? Riiiiigggghht.

Taking the hip hop Hebe here on vacation has proved to be one of the more interesting aspects of our marriage (and I'm talking about a marriage where I wear frum black and he wears a kipot with a propeller).

Last year we went to Ontario, Cape Cod, Boston and Maratha's Vinyard, and the summer house in Michigan. Each trip was special in it's own way (and by special I mean we were candidates for short buses and possibly helmets).

In Michigan, Captain Chaos noted the outside world-

Him (standing in 40 inches of water next to the dock and staring down at his trunks): "There's fish."
Me: "Why, yes there are. Those are called..."
Him: "They're nibbling my willy."

He also discovered on this trip that the pontoon boat would go around the cove backwards, with a wake, if pedled fast enough, and that if you can't swim your wife may have a heart attack when she sees you heading backward at speed into the main body of the lake.

Next we went to Cape Cod, with his sister and her husband, who had flown over from the UK. Here's a hint- don't take British tourists to Plymouth Rock, somehow they just don't apreciate it.

Him (staring down at Plymouth Rock): "That's it? It's a bloody great rock."
Me: "Well, it has a lot of historic importance. See the..."
Him: "Right. Look, what happened? A bunch of mates got in a boat, crossed the ocean, and couldn't park the ship. They went 4,000 miles just to run over a rock."

I should have known better than to take him to Boston and Martha's Vinyard to meet up with my Aunt and Uncle; the policeman who removed the "boys" from the cow outside Faneuille Hall was a very nice man, and I'm sure he often begins to laugh hysterically like that for no good reason. It may surprise you to know that screaming "The British are coming, flee for your lives!" is also frowned upon on Martha's Vinyard beaches.

Aunt has announced that the "pigs in shoes" are now only allowed to play together with adult supervision, preferably while the two of us vacation on another continent.

Niagara Falls, Ontario. Where to begin...

The Falls are not turned off at night to save water, neither can they be flushed. To the mother of the ten year old boy standing next to us and listening raptly, sorry about that.

You cannot "claim this place for England, in the name of the Queen". She doesn't want the port-o-potty, even if it is "a highly strategic location."

You cannot offer to trade George W. Bush to the Canadians in exchange for "what have you got in your pockets."

No one is going to "rally to your banner" and "seize the unclaimed land across the way" if the banner in question is a chip bag and the land across the way has skyscrapers on it.

There were no "little known Jewish Crusades" and the "Holy Land" is not in a Niagara Falls Casino.

This year?

This year we are meeting his family in Florida, to visit the World of the Mouse.

Does anyone know a good therapist?

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