The American Dream

So, in between preparing for the training I've been giving and trying to get rid of a virus on my laptop (if you get an email from me with a subject line of "VERRY IMPORTANT ATACHMENT! OPEN RIGHT A WAY!" you may want to proceed with caution), I have managed to delve slightly deeper into the American consciousness.

And here's what I've found.


I know that everybody says it, but it's true. The food here is just huge. I think I've finished 1 meal here (a sandwich) since I arrived. Almost everything I order seems to come family-sized. Which would be great, except I didn't bring along a family.

While I've been eating this food, I've noticed, again, how nice it is to be hearing familiar music (and by "familiar", I mean not rap and not in French). I like it... music with people singing in tune, with real guitars and drums. I hadn't realized how much I miss rock until I step back and think about how relieved I am not to be surrounded by euro-pop. It's like getting out of a stale room, somehow. It's good.


And everywhere... space. The streets are wide apart. The restaurants have miles between the tables. There are some apartments, but there are a lot of houses, even as I look into one of the business districts of the city outside of my hotel window. There's just a lot of room, and I can see why Europeans who come to Canada or the US for a little while find that so intoxicating.


The flip-side of this, though, is that I haven't been able to get a very good feel for the city. Most places I've worked, I walk everywhere. So I know how Milan or Munich or Zurich feel. I have a sense for the people, the pace, the architecture. But here, I kind of get the feeling that I'm just missing it. I guess it's a place experienced by car, not by foot. And that makes me sad.

Not sad enough that I can't make up for it with a burger the size of a small child, though. Not by a long shot.