Guiding Light: “Romeo held Marah hostage on the Santos yacht. To rescue Marah, Danny phoned Romeo and lied Tony was dead. Tony came to the rescue just as Marah failed an attempt to shoot Romeo after getting hold of his gun. Romeo and Tony were arrested. Romeo made a deal with Carman – who had wanted him to confess to Catalina’s murder – to split up Tony and Marah by revealing he slept with Marah. Danny left after telling Michelle he was going to Africa to rescue Ed. Mel and Rick, who learned he’s on the top of the heart transplant list, arranged to marry in hospital.”

Entertainment comes cheap in America. It’s called the soap opera, and I promise “Guiding Light” doesn’t hold the monopoly in ridiculous plot-lines. Just this week it’s up against “Niki put rat poison in her coffee….” (One life to live) “Rebecca told Kevin there is a candle that, when lit by the person that loves him, will enable him to return to the living.” (Port Charles) and “ Just as the priest was about to pour water on Isaac during the baptism, Lexie realised that Rolf had put the death stimulation drug in the water….” (Days of our lives.) Then on the next page of the New York Post in which this kind of TV report is printed, they’ll be an editorial on who’s to blame for the dysfunctional youth of America. I’m not a psychiatrist, so there’ll be no opinion on modern youth from me either. I’ve just listed some of these TV highlights because they’re funny, and they typify my opinion of the people of the most powerful nation on Earth today. They’re crazy! And since “some guy from Iraq” (a taxi drivers quote in Niagara, I kid you not.) struck terror in New York on September 11th 2001, I think they’ve got a little crazier.

Here’s a story. I have a friend in Washington who, since the attacks has been accused of being both un-caring and un-patriotic for not displaying the stars and stripes from not only her office window, but her car as well. She’s been in America for a year, and she’s from Malawi. Aside from this evil, cold-hearted Satanist that I call a friend, the pride and patriotism of the American people is overwhelming. I paid a visit to New York, Washington and other cities lining the East coast of America post “9-11” to witness the much-touted “resilience” and “recovery” of the worlds only superpower with my own eyes and ears. What I got was an absolute onslaught of determination and glorification. The nation’s flag, nearly always accompanied by a “God Bless America” or other similar caption, (“Yes, that’s right. God bless the richest nation in the world, but don’t worry about all those poor starving people in Africa!” mocked a cynical Dutch traveller I met) graces a window on most cars or public buses and drapes down from the majority of office windows, whilst the promotion and propaganda of American glory is paraded everywhere. A miniature model of the Empire State building I picked up was not ‘made in USA,’ but ‘made for USA.’ In Baby Gap you can buy your newborn a replica New York Fire department uniform! Our babies salute our heroes too! However, my favourite instance of the reporting of American glory comes courtesy of the New York Post. The Post reported that the women’s under-19 national soccer team had thrashed their Surinam counterparts 15-0. In a friendly! This was a result deemed four times as important as the UEFA cup final played the same evening.

I could see it happening before my eyes as I strolled down 42nd street, stumbled up the steps of Capital Hill or shopping in Atlanta’s underground shopping centre – Americans are learning less about the world at a time when they have it all in their hands. It sounds clichéd to say so, but for many of the people of the United States the rest of the world might as well not exist. There’s a popular country song I heard repeatedly as I travelled America’s east coast, which explains the problem better than I could. Here’s the chorus: “Now I’m just a singer of simple songs, I’m not such a political man, I watch CNN but I’m not sure I could tell, the difference between Iraq and Iran….” Well let me tell you. Iran is a country of Persians, not Arabs, where many people eat at Burger outlets and the majority of the population wishes to re-establish ties with the US. Iraq is the country ruled by a maniac who may possess nuclear artillery and could have had a hand in the New York terrorist attacks. You might be at war with them soon! Similar incidents I encountered were prolific. A warden of New Orleans zoo called down the road to us after a lengthy conversation: “Hey you guys. You, Canadians.” “We’re British.” (I thought my strong southern accent might have given it away) “Yeah, whatever,” he said as he brushed his arm as if to say, “ah, who gives a shit. You’re not American so it doesn’t matter where you come from.” Just a couple of weeks previous a Washington bartender had declared: “ That’s a funny accent you guys have got. You from Atlanta?” Why do Americans insist on being so stupid on such regular occasions! One woman in New York asked me where I was from: “England.” “Ah, Europe!” she replied. “Well, yes, but I’m from England.” “Yeah, that’s Europe,” she added, nodding knowingly, perhaps believing that she had just informed me for the first time which continent I was from. My secondary school history teacher, Mr Marks, once said: “I don’t like Americans but I’ve never met one I didn’t like.” I know exactly what he means know having paid them a visit. In London you could travel on the underground and walk along it’s famous streets and nobody will say a word to you. In Washington, New York, Philadelphia and Atlanta I knew that all I had to do was display a brief look of confusion and aid would soon be forthcoming. There are two cities that are an exception to the rule. In New Orleans where if you stand roadside reading a map the only people who to approach is either a conman or a young boy tap dancing for a dollar. Meanwhile in Miami, men will only approach you if you are a blonde woman with breast enhancements, and women will approach you only if you’re businessmen with one hundred dollar bills spilling from his pockets. I love America. I love the scale of New York, the organisation of Washington, the seediness of New Orleans and the ridiculous over indulgences of Miami. In just four days in Miami, we got to ride in Vince Mcmahon’s 100mph powerboat and party in Gloria Estefan’s Bongo’s nightclub. I absolutely love the American way, but I don’t understand it. The only thing I know for sure is that I want ‘Guiding Light’ to come to our British screens real soon!