by
Frank Hatton

It is a beautiful early spring evening, and I have just finished cutting the front and back lawns, they both look quite good, and I feel I have earned myself a glass of red wine. Hence, I was sprawled out in a comfortable chair, with the wine glass close to hand, when I became aware that the evening sun was at a level where I was having to screw up my eyes against its glare, so, I went into my garden shed, and dug out an old baseball type cap to make the sitting and the drinking more tolerable. In my idle meditation on the perfection of the evening, I happened look at the cap which was protecting me from the low sun, and realised that it was a momento from one of my trips to your fair country. The badge on the front of the cap proclaimed it to be ‘The seal of the Cherokee Nation, Sept 6th 1839’. This in turn revived memories of a wonderful three week trip I made with my son, Scott in 1988, when we journeyed from Miami right up the eastern side of the USA to Canada. We had stopped on our first night at a place in Georgia, called Kingsland, and during the day traversed coastal Georgia for around 150 miles and passed into South Carolina, where we had the opportunity of visiting Charleston with its historic waterfront area where civil war history was made. Porgy and Bess got it together, and Clark Gable peered onto the waterfront in a certain 1939 epic production,....... but, we drove straight through and out the other side!!!. Fortunately, the Boone Hall Plantation sign appeared, and almost screamed out to be visited. This we did, and were delighted to find a the remains of a 17,000 acre cotton plantation founded by a Major John Boone, a member of the first fleet of English settlers, and remarkably preserved slave cabins, cotton gin houses, and brick and tile kilns. Mouths agape we climbed back into the car and drove northwards, where, when we stopped for a meal, I realised how glad I was that my educated son was with me. I was completely out of my depth with the Southern accent!! I could speak English, and the locals could speak English, but there we seemed to depart from each other, in that neither of us could understand what the other was saying. My son explained to me that the crux of the problem lies in the origins of the Southern accent. The brogue is a mixture between the black dialects of West Africa, which gives it the drawl, and the Scottish/ Irish, who were the original white settlers. Be that as it may, we then proceeded onwards, and without getting into too much detail, we eventually stopped for the night at the edge of the Great Smoky Mountains in the town of Cherokee. It rained, and the mountains were full of mist, hence the name ‘Great Smoky’. We firstly looked at the ‘Great Smokies Inn’, but, immediately vacated it in favour of the ‘Ponderosa Steak House’. There, in ordering our meal, we were made aware of the reason for the fact that a goodly portion of the world is starving Part of the explanation was the mountain of food which was deposited on our plates. For your money, if you finished every meal, it would immediately put you into the coronary clinic. Steaks are unhealthy enough, but when your half of a cow is supplemented by the entire potato harvest of a medium sized South American country in the form of french fries and a greenhouse full of fresh green salad, you begin to wonder what the world is all about. Came bedtime and sleep, and in the morning, we ventured out into the early dawn. Not many places were open, but, we did find a strange store which had live chickens in a cage, they in turn were linked to a sort of computer, and if you put a quarter into the money slot, it was possible to play a game of what we call ‘nought and crosses’. The money actuated a computer, which in turn fed the chickens, and they in feeding, actuated the computer controlled game, and the system was operated. The chickens always won! So, my friends, we now come back to the origins of this train of thought, and the fact that with all of these thoughts running through my mind, I accidentally caught sight of the label in my ‘Cherokee’ baseball cap!!!!! What do you think it proclaimed??? It was ‘Made in China’. This caused me to look at a plate which I had bought some years earlier in Texas. It was decorated with various aspects of the history of the state, ‘The Alamo’, ‘Austin’, etc., but, again, when I looked at the country of origin? ‘Made in Japan’. This in turn lead my thoughts to an aspect of our own British industry, the British motor cycle. At one time we lead the world in the quality and range of this item. The names of ‘Triumph’, ‘Norton’, ‘Brough Superior’, ‘BSA’, and many others leap to mind , but, in the aftermath of the 1939/45 war, we found that the Japanese were able to make such inroads into this industry, that we were literally wiped out! Other than a small percentage of German and Italian motor cycles, the Japanese dominate the market place. Our motor cars have also all either disappeared, or have been taken over by overseas manufacturers, Jaguar, Rolls Royce, Bentley, Armstrong Siddley, Austin, Morris, Riley, Morgan, MG, Humber, Wolsley, Bentley, Sunbeam Talbot, .... the list goes on and on! It is the ‘wrinklies’ such as myself who feel so confused by these events. What did we do wrong? Why did it happen? Will we continue to slide into oblivion, or is there any possible hope of any sort of recovery? We are much further down this slippery slope that the USA, but, it is happening to you as well. Just look at all of the oversea’s motor cycles and automobiles you have now, and compare the situation to twenty years back!!!! Is there any answer? I know that we have had your General Motors and Ford over here for many years, but I can live with that ‘cos at least we speak the same language, but the others!!!! Yuuuuuk. Back to more pleasant thoughts,........some few weeks back, it was our wedding anniversary, and when I asked my wife what she would like as a present, she opted for a rustic stand for the garden which housed a bird’s nesting box. This object has now been standing at the edge of our back lawn for a while, and just a couple of days ago, we were delighted to see some Bluetits making use of it, and taking in their nesting material. As I said earlier, it is both pleasant and relaxing to sit in the garden and drink a glass or two of red wine, but now with the added entertainment of our feathered friends, it is going to make life even more bearable. I am also happy to report that with the Easter holiday starting our tourist season, we are seeing a very healthy number of visitors to our area. This might not seem like earth shattering news to you folk, but there has been a major concern over here, that with this ‘foot and mouth’ epidemic, our hotels and other holiday industries would find a big shortfall in trade. This was mainly due to the government closing large parts of the ‘New Forest’ area to visitors, in an attempt to stop the spread of the infection. Just in time, the authorities have relaxed this edict, and the area is open again, and while the ‘foot and mouth’ problem is still with us, it is hopefully in decline, and we are getting back to normal. ‘til next time, Frank Hatton

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