America is…

I wrote this for a competition, ‘America is…’ I didn’t win, so I’m ‘allowed’ to post it here…

America is very far away.
3620 miles from the UK.
From California to Wakey,
it is 5217 miles away from me,
in my front room, sipping my tea,
bagged by Mr Sullivan in 1903.

I worked that out on my Apple iPad,
the best idea Steve Jobs had,
whilst watching Scooby Doo on Sky TV,
though Mystery Incorporated is a mystery to me.
He-man, Muppets, and the Street of Sesame,
how kids programmes used to be.

I could have written this with a Loud ballpoint pen,
but prefer touch typing, like Frank McGurrin.
I could have sealed it in some of Mr Tupper’s ware,
and left it with Berryman’s teddy bear.
But my QWERTY ramblings I will share,
thanks to the inventions of you lot over there.

Nirvana, Hendrix, Rock n Roll,
Manson, Reznor, Motown and soul.
Alien, Zed, Bill and Ted,
“69 dude” is once all I said.
Depp, Hanks, and James Dean.
Friday the 13th, Halloween.
Cup cakes, doughnuts, burgers with cheese,
Brownies, bubblegum, jellybeans.
Edison, Ford, Les Paul, Franklin,
Obama, Gates, Luther-King.
Flippers, crackers, pink lemonade,
Nylon, Teflon, hearing aids.
Slinkys, pegs, safety pins,
Zips and bras, and all such things.

I well remember back in the day,
when roller boots were all the rage.
When Barbie ruled, and My Little Pony played,
in their stable, with plastic hay,
next to Girls World’s head, a bald skinhead,
make-up resembling the living dead.

Weekends were for my TV face,
Laurel and Hardy, Lost in Space.
Laughing out loud to Tom and Jerry,
Garfield, Bugs, and poor Wile E.
My square eyed face made to come for tea,
before the A-Team and Mork and Mindy.

Where would I be without Superman,
the hippy John Lennon, or Rosanne,
Charlie Brown, and Mr Chaplin,
and my Snoopy lunch box to keep my dinner in.
Ghostbusters, Big, Fox’s time travelling.
Gremlins doing skateboarding.

Chucky, Flea, Bon Jovi,
Monster trucks, RVs, The Big Bang Theory.
Amps, fans, stadium bands,
Pauly Shore, Edward Scissorhands.
Rich Hall, Fresh Prince, Mama Cass,
Coca-Cola, Pepsi Max.
Columbo, Star Trek and Star Wars,
Jeans, ear muffs, curly straws.
Joplin, King, Madonna’s tits,
Prior, Rock, the great Bill Hicks.
Jaws, Johnny 5, CSI,
ALF, X Files, Steve S. Vai.
Daria, Friends, Stephen King,
That Rocky theme, the moon landings.

It’s clear, although these are just a few,
we share much more than just the red, white and blue.
I know that it is likely we will always disagree,
on the spelling of colour, cheque, and jewellery.
Or if a parcel is a package, a lorry is a truck,
a bathroom is a toilet, if a store is a shop.
And we’ll never find agreement between garbage and rubbish,
if gas is really petrol, or if chips are fries or crisps.
Or if I’m wearing pants and trousers, or just the one pair,
or if my rubber is an eraser, or if I have jam or jelly in my hair.
But it doesn’t matter, I don’t give a chuff,
‘cos it seems my life would have been so dull,
if you hadn’t produced all this stuff.

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