F.P.H

Today, we drove up from Monterey to San Francisco. Monterey was cool, a superb stop for anyone who likes their seafood, highly recommended. Not bad for a place I only stopped at in the mistaken belief it featured in the lyrics of the legendary 'Smoke on the water'. (That's Montreux in Switzerland but of course, you all knew that) There's also nothing like going for a romantic walk up the keys at midnight and hearing the oddly eerie sound of seals honking and clapping off in the distance. My stand-up comic instincts did occasionally kick-in and I had an irresistible urge to head towards the sound of applause. Elaine had to hold me back from diving in. 'Hey, whats the deal with tuna?'

Our drive up today was broken up nicely by my new driving game. We eventually set the record of 67 FPH, or Flags Per Hour. It's a simple game, count how many times you see the American flag in 60 minutes. The yanks are seriously in love with the stars and stripes, it's like a weird national fetish. As a European, it all seems very odd. Why does someone put a massive flag in their backyard? Do they think people might be unaware which country their garden is in? Is it there to watch over the Mexican gardner or The Puerto Rican pool guy to make they don't do anything unAmerican do the garden gnomes when nobody is watching?

Even in the many ethnic enclaves we've seen in LA and San Francisco there is a plenitude of American flags. Also, if you see the flag of another country, it's invariably flanked by the stars and stripes either side. It's like any other flag needs a Yankee security guard in case it runs off and tries to do something un-American. We can't have Italian flags running around unchecked in case people forget where they come from and start switching sides in wars as opposed to sticking to the wrong side they came in with.

Back home, if the next door neighbour sticks up an Irish flag, we all check to see what sporting event is kicking off we've missed. If they sticks up a George's cross we all start freaking out in case the BNP have moved in next door. If they stick up an American flag, we move - checking the fire insurance is up to date beforehand.

One of the perennial bug bears of American politics is the issue of flag burning. Every candidate in the forth-coming US election has to state their position on it. Are you for free speech or patriotism?
'Mister candidate, If you find yourself trapped in a warehouse in Alaska at sub zero temperatures, naked, with nothing but a lighter and a crate of American flags, what would you do?'
'We're in two wars, have a bankrupt pension scheme and we have no health care, wouldn't you like to ask me about something else?'
'You a commie boy?!'

Bar anything else, surely burning isn't the worst thing that can happen to old glory? We were here for memorial day weekend, the amount of confectionery embodiments of the flag they've come up with is mind-blowing. Cakes, muffins, cup cakes - even a flan! I ask you, which is less dignified for a flag - going out in a blaze of glory or being stuffed down the gullet of old aunt Maud? If given the choice, I'd rather end up as ashes than winding my way through an old lady's lower intestine - does that make me unamerican?