Is Anglophilia Contagious?

I am an Anglophile. As a kid, I loved learning about British history. (My other favorites were American history and Jewish history from the Dark Ages and on. Once I came home from Hebrew school with a Jewish history textbook and accidentally read most of it in one sitting because I was so fascinated by it. I can see something like that easily happening today. Ah, embrace the geek!) When I first visited London in 2001, I planned an insane agenda and insisted that Husband and I try to do and see everything on it. My fear was that I’d leave without getting to see something I’d always dreamed about visiting, and then I’d never get to go back.

Fortunately, Husband not only remained married to me after that trip, but I also learned how to relax a bit on vacations after we returned home utterly exhausted. Also, I’ve been lucky enough to go back to London multiple times. Every time I’m there, I love it more. No one is supposed to love British food, but I do! I adore fatty pies, scones and clotted cream, Cadbury, curries (technically, Indian of course, but so absorbed into London culture that it might as well be British at this point), and weird meat sandwiches that I bought in convenience stores in subway stations. The little bagel I had with salt beef (aka corned beef) the last time I was there was the best bagel I have ever eaten. Seriously.

Mara took me to the bagel place, and she also sent me this reminder of why I love everything English. It seems that BBC3 will be premiering a documentary called, “Fuck Off, I’m a Hairy Woman.” (Read the hilarious essay about it by the filmmaker in The Guardian. Can you imagine something like that on TV in the US? The title alone would have been changed to something more palatable and mild, like, “The Politics of Body Hair” or something boring and erudite so PBS could show it. If they deigned to do so, which I am not sure they would.

In the past few years, British TV also showed a documentary called “The Trouble with My Vagina” about cootie waxing, which someone burned for me on DVD and I wrote about a long time ago. (I think I need to finally watch it as soon as I am done writing this. I can’t believe I’ve had it for months and keep forgetting to watch it.) Good stuff, good stuff. In America, we get “reality shows” about Playboy Playmates (which also discussed unshaved snatch, referring to it as a “power muff,” making me suddenly wonder if I love the Power Puff Girls so much because it sounds so much like Power Muff Girls...) and Anna Nicole Smith, who is suddenly some sort of national hero. (Mark my words, DNA testing is going to show that the father of her poor baby is her son.)

Next Friday, I’ll be arriving in London with Sara for a nice visit with Mara, her hubby, and their new baby. I can’t wait.