Saturday, 9 May 2009
I’ve never really thought of myself as “English” though clearly I am, and if asked I would deny being proud of my country – there is much in its history and politics that merit shame.
However, watching the ice-cream orchestra brought home how MUCH of home is housed within me.
Last night I saw “Good Morning England” at the local cinema, a tale around Pirate Radio Broadcasts of the late Sixties, and the film was seeped in reference to a cultural background that I share and come from and which defines me as much as blood or parentage.
In many parts of the world people happily or unhappily change nationality yet if I did this it would feel unreal to me, even a pretence – how could I deny my cultural bedrock.
I’m not sure where the Mini, fifty years old this year, sits in all of this- I have never owned one, never driven one- but it was something that surrounded my youth in such intensity that now when I see an original design I smile.
Maybe you would do this if you weren’t English anyway but my mother’s mother-that-i-never-knew was also called Minnie so the sound of the word runs deep in my associative consciousness, my blood history and in my everyday too.
I live with a Minnie.