My parents are true blue Southerners(to be very clear not like from an episode of Hee Haw) which means it is their birth right and responsibility to speak comfortably and with great familiarity and ease to any and all strangers they encounter. There is no such thing as a stranger, just a whole bunch of new friends whom you will soon know everything(you never wanted to know) about. If you are any kind of decent Southerner you can accomplish this feat in less than 5 minutes and potentially anywhere, although being in queue somewhere is the preferred locale.
So this very genuine, friendly and open demeanor goes over like a fart in church here in Oz. A few examples: The Dr tells my Dad he will need to take steroids for his eye, my Dad says, “But, sir what about my football career?” Dr., "pardon me sir?" My Dad at the Hotel Mosman(which he thought was a proper Hotel and previously tried to book a stay) he put down his card to start a tab, he said something like...”Now don’t go over and hit up the shops on a shopping binge with my card.” Bar girl, “huh, ah no sir we just keep the cards right here behind the bar here.” In the elevator, “hello, how is everyone doing tonight?” deafening silence crickets crickets crickets. On the street, he makes eye contact and offers a friendly hello, he notes later that people do not make eye contact, at all, undeterred he keeps at it. You can't deny your birth rite or shake who you are because other people don't understand you!
I, of course am well versed in the social awkwardness of being me in a strange place. But it is all new again seeing it through someone else's eyes. Still, I do not know what to make of all this unfriendly stand offishness? Is it a colonial hangover? Is it that we live on "the insular peninsula?" Is it the lurking thought in their mind once they hear the American accent that anything else coming from our mouth will be rubbish? I don't know, but, you know the younger generation is weaker because I gave up after tiring of explaining my "jokes" and being the only one smiling, ever! Lucky for my Dad, he has persevered and not let any of the setbacks slow him down. He has met several "good friends" at the Hotel Mosman and been invited sailing and to country Western bars. This all happened in two days, which brings his total invites to two more invites than I have received from a real Aussies in six months.
So...upon self reflection, I see where the problem may lie, I clearly do not drink enough(never thought I would say that). All of the friendly Aussies must enjoy the drink. Crocodile Dundee told me it would be this way, I just didn't listen.
Where the magic happens
So this very genuine, friendly and open demeanor goes over like a fart in church here in Oz. A few examples: The Dr tells my Dad he will need to take steroids for his eye, my Dad says, “But, sir what about my football career?” Dr., "pardon me sir?" My Dad at the Hotel Mosman(which he thought was a proper Hotel and previously tried to book a stay) he put down his card to start a tab, he said something like...”Now don’t go over and hit up the shops on a shopping binge with my card.” Bar girl, “huh, ah no sir we just keep the cards right here behind the bar here.” In the elevator, “hello, how is everyone doing tonight?” deafening silence crickets crickets crickets. On the street, he makes eye contact and offers a friendly hello, he notes later that people do not make eye contact, at all, undeterred he keeps at it. You can't deny your birth rite or shake who you are because other people don't understand you!
I, of course am well versed in the social awkwardness of being me in a strange place. But it is all new again seeing it through someone else's eyes. Still, I do not know what to make of all this unfriendly stand offishness? Is it a colonial hangover? Is it that we live on "the insular peninsula?" Is it the lurking thought in their mind once they hear the American accent that anything else coming from our mouth will be rubbish? I don't know, but, you know the younger generation is weaker because I gave up after tiring of explaining my "jokes" and being the only one smiling, ever! Lucky for my Dad, he has persevered and not let any of the setbacks slow him down. He has met several "good friends" at the Hotel Mosman and been invited sailing and to country Western bars. This all happened in two days, which brings his total invites to two more invites than I have received from a real Aussies in six months.
So...upon self reflection, I see where the problem may lie, I clearly do not drink enough(never thought I would say that). All of the friendly Aussies must enjoy the drink. Crocodile Dundee told me it would be this way, I just didn't listen.
Where the magic happens
OMG!! This is so true. You just can't take the "southerness" out of us Southerners. We make people talk to us whether they want to or not. The only thing Dad is missing is his drinking buddy, Jock.
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