Michael Harling's Blog, page 33

When the Brits Get It Wrong

The Brits do many things right (sticky toffee pudding, a nice cup of tea and movies about children inhabiting a magical world, to name but a few) and they do many, many things differently—though not necessarily better—than we do (such as adding a redundant syllable to the word “aluminum” and using the term “redundant” to mean “laid off”) but there is one area where they are certainly, most definitely, wrong.
Now, I don’t want to be too harsh on my host country, especially now while they are so...

Out on Parole

I did something very foolish this past month. It’s a foolish thing to do no matter where you live, but it is especially foolish if you live in Britain: I let the weather get to me.

We have had (correction: we are having) the worst spring in 50 years. We enjoyed more agreeable weather during the winter months than we have had since March arrived. Aside from a single day off for good behavior, I have been a virtual prisoner for over a month, but only because I thought I could out-smart Mother Na...

Under the Watchful Eye

I’m having some unexpected difficulties plotting my current novel due to a peculiarly British phenomenon: the obsession with putting CCTV cameras on, well, everything. Now, other countries have CCTV, but none deploy them with the alacrity of the British.


“Big Brother is Watching You.” ― George Orwell, 1984To be brief, the villain in my story needs to push a hapless victim onto the railroad tracks, and it needs to look like an accident, but with an estimated camera-to-civilian ratio of 1 to 32,...

Bonus Day

Today—like every other day for the past fortnight—was supposed to be a wash out, but who am to argue with sunshine. That’s right, after a dodgy start, the temps climbed above freezing and the sun actually peeked from between the clouds. So, not one to let an opportunity slip by, I grabbed my bike and hit the road.
My destination was a recommended pub called The Dragon in the little village of Colgate about five miles east of Horsham. That’s as the crow flies; the trip was actually about 14 mil...

Happy St. Nuggets Day

You might think I would be keen to talk about St. Patrick’s Day, seeing as how—as I write this—it is St. Patrick’s Day, and in my prime, I used to sing “diddley-dee” songs in some of our many local, Irish-Themed pubs, and was a one-time medal-winning Irish step dancer. I could discuss the differences in celebrations I knew in New York compared to those I see here* but, instead, I want to talk about Chicken McNuggets.
Today, you see, marks the 50th anniversary of the invention of the Chicken Nu...

Back on Two Wheels

So, yeah, I got a bike.
This is how it happened:
Since my unexpected retirement some months back, I have been happily holed up in my flat, occasionally stepping onto the balcony to feel the bitter wind on my face and watch the blowing snow swirl around the courtyard before ducking back inside, thankful that I no longer have to be anywhere that requires me to go outside. But then something strange occurred: the wind stopped, the sun appeared, the flowers bloomed and the outside world became sudd...

A Taste of the Past

I had occasion, yesterday, to be out amongst the gainfully employed as they made their collective way to their individual places of employment. This came about because my wife is on a two-day training course in a distant city that makes it more convenient for her to travel by train instead of by car and, due to my uxorious nature, I drove her to the station.
Seeing people bustling about with a sense of purpose—while juggling cups of coffee, briefcases and smart phones—left me with an unexpecte...

Wakehurst Place

One of the coolest things about Britain is the casual scattering of heritage found lying around everywhere—such as Stonehenge, the Tower of London and the leftover WWII pillboxes dotting the coastline—and some of the coolest bits of their redundant past are the old stately manor houses.
If you don’t watch Downton Abbey, manor homes were huge estates, staffed by legions of servants, surrounded by vast tracts of land cared for by armies of groundsmen and gamekeepers who kept the woods, rivers an...

Now We’re Cooking

One of the unforeseen consequences of being made redundant is that I am finally getting to grips with cooking in the UK. This came about because, as the newly delegated loafer, it fell to me to pick up the slack in the housekeeping department, which includes making dinner for my lazy-ass self and my hard-working wife.
This was her idea, and she’s a brave woman for suggesting it because my previous forays into the realm of cookery have generally ended in disaster—culinary equivalents...

Progress

The manuscript changes are in, the tweaks (over 500 of them) have been completed and the new version of Finding Rachel Davenport has been uploaded. That’s one of the upsides of the digital revolution: a book can be edited even after it has been published (though having a flexible and understanding publisher helps; I wouldn’t expect HarperCollins to pull off something like this.)
To those who volunteered to steer me safely through the reefs and shoals of British culture, I offer a huge Thank Yo...