Sunday, 28 April 2019

Crisis of conscience

"But David," people ask me.  "How do you deal with the crushing guilt of being a stay-at-home Dad and a kept man?"

"Well," I tell them, pausing my computer game and taking a sip of my mid-morning cocktail, "it's tough."

Unfortunately, now and again I feel a sting of something I've come to recognise as 'conscience' and wonder if maybe I should be giving back to society, or whatever.  Equally unfortunately, Pete's school offers infinite opportunities to volunteer, which is why I found myself there several times this week.

One of the biggest puzzles of US society is its utterly clichéed me-first individualism, while at the same time Americans gave a whopping $400 billion to charity in 2017, putting them at the top of the World Giving Index.  Pay taxes to look after everyone with equal healthcare and education?  Oh no.  Make up the shortfall directly out of your own pocket?  This they like.

All of this is why Pete's (and every other) public school runs on volunteers and fundraising, and why I receive nods from other parents at pick-up time who have also chaperoned multiple trips, packed up classrooms at the end of term, or helped the school nurse administer flu shots.  We're a loose collective, recognisable by our pre-printed visitor badges and emotional scars.

My first volunteering this week didn't really count, as it was to see Pete read a poem in front of the school.  This was the annual poetry and prose competition, although (very strangely for America) no one was declared the winner.  Pete seemed to consider being picked from his class to stand in front of the school to be the prize, and recited "Say Hello To Pikachu" with aplomb.  So young, and already surpassing all literary achievements of his father.

Two days later I was back again for the school grand opening.  The school has been open since January but now it was "grand", and various elected officials were here, including a representative of the lovely popular Texas Senator Ted Cruz, as was the school's oldest alumnus who started Kindergarten in 1929.  Lets hope she graduates soon.  The children sang, the principal cried, and we had to say the Pledge of Allegiance before the ribbon was cut.

Finally, Friday was the day of the school fun run, where they were hoping to raise $16,000 to keep the lights on a little longer.  It was a slick affair, organised by a outside marketing company who (reportedly) took a 40% cut of donations.  Hey - it's charity, but this is still the land of free market economics!  We also had to sing the US National Anthem beforehand.  Before a school fun run!  Unfortunately I'd misread the information and believed Pete would run 16 laps, when in fact he did 35, which means I'm on the hook for quite a large sum of money.

Coming up in the next few days it's the Kindergarten 'sock hop' dance, followed by a field trip to the Museum of Natural Science.  It's going to be a busy week for me once again, which is a shame as there are some particularly tricky levels on my current game that require my undivided attention...


Pete wows the crowd with his poem (authors: P & D Davies).


Neighbour and cycling-mate Levi recites his poem in Spanish.


Nara, a fellow Cub Scout and school friend of Pete, gets into character with his pizza poem.


Angels at the grand opening.


Dance beforehand from some embarrassed eighth graders.


 
Top performers.


Ribbon cut!  Much rejoicing.


Lining up for the fun run in the sun.  Fun for whom?


"Baby Shark" for the warm-up.


Pete and Elena sing the anthem.  Elena is Chilean, Pete is British, but whatever.


Runners and riders.


Every mark on that T-shirt is another $20 I owe!  Time to ask my wife for an extension to my credit.

Sunday, 7 April 2019

Lucky Land

We liked California - it's where all the weirdos end up.  Need a holy mountain made out of straw?  A place where gravity doesn't exist?  A Danish town?  Or (just by the Arizona border) the centre of the world?  It's all there, and we saw it all.  It's fair to say we fitted in.

Now that we're Texan we're far more sensible, and things like that scare the cattle and vote Democrat so we give them a wide berth.  But this is still America, which means you don't have to go far to find someone who came up with a crazy idea and starting charging people to see it.  Which is why today we went to Lucky Land.

Lucky Land is a pure and simple slice of China in the middle of Houston.  They have pandas!  They have terracotta warriors!  They have Buddhas!  They have kung fu masters!  None of it is real, of course, given away by the fact that it's all made out of concrete.  But that doesn't stop them.  It's like a theme park built by someone who only heard about theme parks from their second cousin.  And it's glorious.

I knew I would love the place when the ticket guy gave us a free return visit because it was raining, and then handed us complimentary umbrellas.  Once inside and enclosed by tall walls of green bamboo, you might actually be in China.  If China's made from concrete and fake plants; I don't know, I've never been.  We sauntered at our leisure, worrying (in a completely British fashion) that as we were the only ones there it might seem rude to leave.

Yet, after two hours of concrete enjoyment, we did drag ourselves away from this piece of genuinely breathtaking Sino-Americana, wondering why we haven't brought every single one of our guests here.  Probably because most of them are far less easily impressed than us.


Welcome to China!


Panda!  Think how dangerous it would be if it wasn't tied to that tree.


A fine vantage point to overlook the whole sweep of the park.


More pandas * * not real


Protecting an endangered species.


Lucky Village (Great Wall of China in background).  Hannah for scale.


Reluctant warrior.


Less reluctant warrior.


Entertaining a little emperor.


Yin and yang.


Through a bamboo forest.


Terracotta army.  Hannah for scale (again).


No idea.


I too have the body of a god.


Everybody was kung fu fighting.


Including us.


The koi (not concrete) were extremely pleased to see us and our fish food, which is included in admission!


Optimus Prime.


Iron Man.  And now we don't need to go to China because we've seen it all.