Anyway, they were lovely people and my love affair with British accents, authors, and culture began there. They gave me their strange money to keep in a jewelry box at home and tried to teach me about exchange rates, they talked about nights out at the pub, they had rosy cheeks and bright eyes, they referred to beers as pints. They introduced me to Jane Austin, Lewis Carroll, Charles Dickens, and the Royal Family. I fell in love with Wimbeldon - and the tradition of white on the courts, the Duke and Dutchess of Kent in the stands, the starched reserved properness of it all.
And when I was older, they introduced me to Benny Hill.
And I found the seedy underside of British life.
And I was well and truly hooked.
The balance to all that proper behavior was this incredibly funny foul man. Can you hear the music playing now?
I've continued to spend my Friday evenings watching the local PBS station's BritCom nights with wonderful and quirky shows from the 70s, 80s, and 90s. Some favorites - check them out.
The Young Ones
[The anarchic flatshare from hell]
Are You Being Served?
[Set in the antiquated Grace Brothers department store, the show followed the antics of its staff]
[3 guys, 3 girls, not your average "Friends" episodes]
[Follow the tawdry and yet inexorable progress of the Blackadder dynasty]
[Farce run amok]
[Thermo-man adjusts to life on earth]
God Bless the BBC.