Moving back to the US after living abroad
After all, oil is still gushing into the Gulf. Shouldn’t the CEO of the company behind the disaster be directing the effort to stop the flow, rather than deflecting tough questions from lawmakers?
As candid and cruel as some of those questions were, I would rather have been in the Capitol Hill hot seat, rather than on board a boat, trying to figure out how to stem the tide of the ecological disaster, if I were BP’s CEO.
At the very least, he did say he was sorry…
If our car’s dashboard thermometer is accurate, temperatures hit 100 degrees fahrenheit today here in Atlanta. It certainly felt like it. And it’s only mid-June.
What’s alarming is that summer hasn’t officially begun yet. From the unofficial poll I have taken, Atlantans seem to be divided over whether this weather is normal for this time of year: some say it is, and others say that this June is hotter than they can remember.
They all seem to agree that as hot as it is now, August will be even worse.
I felt for her, because she was obviously new to non-American football, and the startling prevalence of draws — especially in this World Cup so far.
I have grown accustomed to tie games, after six years of marriage to an Englishman whose team doesn’t always do what its supporters hope. A draw, after all, is better than a loss — even if the scoreboard reads: “0-0.”
As an American with a British passport, I wasn’t heartbroken with the result — at least nobody lost.
I am impressed by the level of excitement here in Atlanta ahead of the World Cup. There are signs in front of bars, coaxing fans to watch the tournament while drinking at their establishments; daily articles in the press (even LOCAL papers!); and conversations between people I never knew followed soccer/football, talking about where they play to watch, and who think they will win.
During the ’02 and ’06 World Cups, I was living in London, where you couldn’t avoid getting drawn into the hoopla: there were fans decked out in their country’s kit, screaming newspaper headlines, and constant World Cup chatter everywhere you looked.
Here, I expected football fever to pass the country by. But instead, people seem to suddenly be soccer fans, holding viewing parties, complete with barbecues, to watch the US play England on Saturday.
I hope that the excitement lasts, even if the US team doesn’t.
While I appreciate BP’s CEO admitting that the tragic oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico is his company’s fault, I couldn’t help feeling that I share some of the blame.
I buy gas (not from BP stations since the April 20th explosion, but still…) and, as it turns out, I am a BP shareholder.
When I looked today at a breakdown of my kids’ savings accounts in the UK, I noticed that BP is the top held share in both funds.
I didn’t pick the shares — the Child Trust Fund administrator did — but I didn’t protest when I saw the statement. My kids are too young to ask probing questions about why we support big polluters with their college funds, but that day might come soon.
Maybe it is time for us to switch to alternative fuels, and to diversify the kids’ savings into ethically sound companies.
In the meantime, if we make it to a Gulf of Mexico beach this summer, we will be sure to bring the tar remover.
At least it’s a step in the right direction…
I can understand bringing a picnic; maybe a bottle of wine. But why a firearm? If you had a gun with you, for some reason — maybe you forgot to take it out of your holster after your weekly target practice — why would you need to shoot at your fellow film watchers?
If we attend the next screening, I will have to make sure to dress the kids in bullet proof vests.
There seem to be opposing views about the Duchess on York on either side of the Atlantic. My British in-laws think that she has consistently tarnished the Royal Family’s good name, whereas my American brother thinks that the royals shoved her aside after her divorce from Prince Andrew.
Maybe a little bit of both is true: she lives in a wing of a royal residence, but doesn’t get to attend royal events. Her title helped her win the lucrative Weight Watchers spokesperson gig, but might prevent her from doing much else…
…beyond hoodwinking businessmen into giving her money to arrange meetings with her ex-husband.
My only question is whether Prince Andrew was as ignorant about the scheme as they claim.
I am glad that the UK has a new Prime Minister, even though I did not help to elect him. And I’m impressed at how jovial the two former campaign rivals seem to be, so soon after chiding each other during election debates.
David Cameron and Nick Clegg actually seemed to be pals in their press conference earlier today.
But I am perplexed by just how similar they look. At least they seem to be aware of that; I admire their choice of bold, opposing colored ties, to enable a potentially confused electorate to tell them apart. Let’s hope they keep it up.
For the first time, I am not participating in an election in which I am eligible to vote. I blame the ash cloud. And of course, it’s an historic British election that I was jubilantly excited to vote in, as only die-hard voters are.
After years of casting my ballot in every American election that came up, from local to federal, electing judges, district councillors, and other posts that wouldn’t draw most voters to the polls, I miss the one that people around the world are talking about.
My postal ballot never arrived. That is most likely the fault of the havoc wreaked on the mail service by the Icelandic ash cloud last month. Maybe it’s time to put the ballots online. That measure would get my vote.
