USA Email Series 12: Right wing politics, ludicrous shop names and, coming soon to ITV2: Bus Wars.‏

(First sent: 31st August 2009)

Good morning, good afternoon and goodnight...

So, the day drifts into early afternoon here in San Diego and the heat is not rescinding. In fact, if anything it's actually getting hotter as the sun goes down, making me conclude that science knows nothing and the temperature of the earth is actually regulated by a thousand hidden microwaves, in and around the cities, that are all just about to 'ping' sending us spewing into a cataclysmic future where there's baked potato and bits of lasagna stuck to the major landmarks, potentially drowning us in baked goods and certainly making us feel ready for a spot of lunch.

Actually, my ridiculous aside isn't that ridiculous if you substitute 'microwaves' for cars and 'baked potato bits' for the hideous sweeping smog that lingered over LA creating a putrid haze that, for some reason, put me in mind of Blackpool in the rain. That's how grim it was.

Two things on LA to report:

1) A real pain to get around. There's lots of buses, that's for sure, but they just don't seem to be going anywhere, just fulfilling some kind of nominal function of transporting the elderly to precisely nowhere. Maybe that's what happens when you get to a certain age; you just roam and roam and stare blankly out of the windows as foreigners squint at you trying to figure out where the bloody hell they are. That's why you get a bus pass at 65, to keep you out the way.

2). LA? Not for me, sir. It wasn't the filth, or the run down bleakness of the Mexican or central quarters (which make Coventry city centre look like the magical land of oz), or the smog and heat which combine to form a thick brown Campbell's Soup in your lungs just waiting to force you, doubled over, to cough up your tonsils like hot, red slugs.

No.

It's the overall pointlessness of the people who live in the place. If you're not poncing yourself around on the street like some sort of multi-cocked business tithole trying to discover just how many Abercrombie shirts it will take to replace the ownership of a soul, then you are almost certainly wandering and mumbling vaguely intelligible threats to nobody in particular before being moved on from the Greyhound station for being incapable of sitting in a chair (I saw this first hand, he simply couldn't stay upright - I'm not 100% sure why, but I think I could have a reasonable guess: It rhymes with 'hugs'. No it's not 'jugs' you filthy pervert.)

Yes, LA is a dump alright. There's some fun to be had on Hollywood Boulevard, snapping pictures of yourself with bits of concrete paving slab with some rancid celebrities horrible names written on them. Yes, it's a non stop chuckle festival. Luckily, it's only four and a half hours from San Diego, which is where I am now.

My word, it's really nice here. Really nice. Too nice. Makes me wonder, because every other city in America wears it's inequalities like a badge on it's shoulder and the homeless and beggars walk amongst the rich people willy nilly. Can you imagine that? How frightful. Can't they all be put 'somewhere' so as not to bother me while I get a Starcocks and browse the windows of Urban Underfitters or Wondercloth, or Stuffwhatmakemehateselfslightlylessfortwosecondsi'msolonelysoaffraidooohhnicecardy.com and they can't bother me by asking for 'change' (whatever that is - don't they take Visa?) and generally being smelly poo bums..... I'm sorry, I went all daily mail there for a second. Get me some Buffalo left-wings and an old copy of the Guardian, stat.

I'm not surprised though that people like me (genius) can drift into Fox News mode though. There's so many flags on show everywhere in SD that the BNP should definitely come here on a fact finding mission. I'm sure actual 'facts' rather than emotional outbursts and blind prejudice might induce the average BNP member to spontaneously combust, in which case I'll pay for Nick Griffin's ticket gladly.

Today, most of the star spanglies are at half mast for Teddy Kennedy who bit the cheese this week. Despite my cynicism over the fact that he had what you might call an 'advantageous' surname for working in politics in the US, he did bring in some 1000 laws in America in his life, 300 of which he wrote himself, no less. (Thanks to Wikipedia - still the number one alternative to actual knowledge)

In addition to those delights, SD also offers an opportunity for me to drift into the home of the swine flu that has ripped into the UK population (fingers crossed, Thatcher's next. Only joking. Or am I?) and visit Mexico. Yowzers. Tijuana is quite the toilet that you think it would be, punctuated only slightly by overly earnest street sellers who don't haggle so much as recite a NASA style countdown the second it looks like your interest in their sad bauble is rescinding:
"How much?"
"$10"
"$10?"
"$10, for that, it's $10"
"Hmmmm"
"$9"
"What?"
"$8"
"$8?"
"$7"
"ok, ok. Done"
"$6"
"What? Noooo, I said 'I'll take it'.."
"$5?"

And on it goes, until you feel like you're living in some kind of Life of Brian hyper-reality, trying to resist the temptation to get to the point where she will end up owing you a dollar to take the thing off her hands.

Alongside the street sellers, I also had my first experience of the street children begging or selling penny chews for peanuts. They seemed to be half enjoying it though, darting between us for a second, hands outstretched, before they looked at each other and started dancing around and playing silly childish games.

I should stress that the above observation is in no way intended to make it sound like there life is a great fun game, and begging for bumwipe from foreigners on the streets of a drugs haven is in some way a happy, let's go fly a kite, type of existence. It's more to point out the fact that in spite of the most horrendous circumstances, children can still have fun and still wear a smile.

So, apart from looking at children, I had a good old time there. The pictures of me riding a mechanical bull and trying to avoid insane Mexicans with whistles who pour tequila down your neck until you are full, will be lurking on Facebook no doubt. Here's this week's 'Richies Roundup' in a random order:

1. Bemoaned the loss of my old camera for the last time and replaced the bastard. Still, life goes on, and the spirit of my Canon lives on in the dreams and hope of its children. Or summat.
2. Hugged the seller of Mexican 'moonshine' despite the fact that the shot he gave me might be classified as attempted murder in some states. 98%. That's all I will say.
3. Saw into the future, after drinking Mexican moonshine.
4. Rode the greyhound, for the first time, into SD. No problems but a lingering smell.
5. Went on a limo tour of LA. It was as random as it sounds, and I felt like a tit, but I was a full on badass in a limo in Hollywood baby. Kiss my face.
6. Needed some TLC.
7. I managed to burn my nipple. Not pleasant, but glad to have done it once.
8. Went to the oldest building in LA. I was hoping it would be from about 1963 or something, but it was actually turn of the (last) century, so it was quite interesting. Right in the old mexican part of LA which was by far the nicest. Enjoyed the view with a gorgeous burrito to boot.
9. Did some crazy dancing with crazy Aussies. Well done.
10. Enjoyed watching a bus driver have a full on temper tantrum at the door of his bus that simply wouldn't close. We'd drive a bit. He'd look at it. He'd stop the bus. He'd swear loudly at the door. He'd give up. We'd drive a bit.... repeat, for a solid 45 minutes. Made me a bit late, but I think 'Bus Wars' has definitely got "ITV2 sleeper hit" written all over it. I could well imagine Jamie Theakston keeping himself out of bankruptcy court narrating that gem.
11. Learnt that the meaning of the phrase 'what happens in Tijuana, stays in Tijuana' that our guide kept referring to, was actually referring to most people's dinner. I was fine, thank you.
12. I'm going to the movies tonight. Not really a "thing I've done" yet, but I'm quite looking forward to it.
13. Looked around Balboa park which has nice architecture and wonderful old buildings (built in the 40's, so that's old for them) but I was underwhelmed. I prefer my parks to contain less museums and poncing around and more water fountains and softball. come on SD, stop being such a girl and get your mitt and baseball out. I'll learn you a game.
14. Went to Summerslam. Yes. I know. It's Wrestling. I can deal with it. Can you? Good.
15. Ironed a shirt. I finally made something flat on this trip. YESSSSS!

OK, well, that feels like a bit of a bumper mail this week. Did it feel like that to you. Well I am pleased. What's that? Oh, of course you can tell your friends about my mails. I'd love to add people to the list. I really want to. Who? That guy? No. Not him. Any other friends? Didn't think so. Loser.

Take care peoples and let me know how things are going back in England (or Korea or Holland, or wherever the ruddy hell you are.)

Byeloveyoubye. xx

...I hit the wall just prior to this email, as LA had really bummed me out. I was tired and frankly wishing I was at home, just three months into the trip. Lucky for me that San Diego was there to bail me out with it's sandy beaches, wonderful nightlife and slightly fewer headbuttingly jarring or medically insane people lurking around every corner waiting to make me feel like I'd stepped into a terrifying cartoon version of my own life...