TEA DAMMIT!

[pegkerr]

I love the phlegmatic Brits, and I enjoyed this discussion on metaquotes, quoting jslayeruk here:

"Not seriously" isn't quite the term, but I know what you mean. It's the British reaction. The yes-okay-but-where's-my-tea-I-want-to-watch-Corrie response. You feel like going "Damn, I wish it was the French, it's fun to blame them for everything". When the news reporter said "Shopkeepers are opening their doors bringing out blankets and cups of tea" I just smiled. It's like yes. That's Britain for you. Tea solves everything. You're a bit cold? Tea. Your boyfriend has just left you? Tea. You've just been told you've got cancer? Tea. Coordinated terrorist attack on the transport network bringing the city to a grinding halt? TEA DAMMIT! And if it's really serious, they may bring out the coffee. The Americans have their alert raised to red, we break out the coffee. That's for situations more serious than this of course. Like another England penalty shoot-out.

Comments

[kalquessa.livejournal.com]

It's really a wonderful attitude to have. Yes, something awful has happened, now let's steady our nerves a bit with some tea and then we'll get on with things and see what needs to be done and do it. Love the icon.

[jonquil.livejournal.com]

I love that, and its icon.

I've been fascinated by the overseas coverage.

In the American coverage of September 11th, the focus was on how kind everybody was; in the British coverage of July 7, the focus seems to be on how phlegmatic everybody was. (Not that people weren't both; but the British papers seem to be focusing on how calm the people were, and how quintessentially British that was.)

[naomikritzer]

When I was 13 years old, my family spent a year living in London while my father was on sabbatical and my mother was doing her dissertation research. My brother, sister, and I attended schools in north London. Among the many interesting adventures I had that year: I got shot in the leg with a pellet gun by one of my classmates one day between classes. I didn't tell a teacher or any other adult, but kept it a secret for the rest of the day. It was the day I had my piano lesson, so I met my mother and sister after school and we walked to my piano teacher's house. My sister had her lesson first, and I told my mother what had happened during her lesson, breaking down in horrified sobs and completely disrupting the lesson, of course.

On hearing what had happened, my piano teacher said, "Oh my goodness. Would you like a cup of tea? Or perhaps -- something stronger?"

My mother assumed she was offering to spike my tea with gin, but perhaps she just meant coffee?

My mother called the Head, and my gun-toting classmate (who had just been admitted to the school, who had a criminal record as long as his arm already and a court case pending) was expelled. Though the many ways that the school mishandled this could make the story much longer, I'll end it with that.

[cat-mom.livejournal.com]

This was lovely Peg, thank you! In the three years I lived in London, I gave up drinking coffee entirely and became a total tea convert. Milk, no sugar, thank you very much! A band-aid for the nerves, definitely!

[cupcake-goth.livejournal.com]

I adore your icon. And I must make sure that stroppy_baggage sees that quote.

[mayakda.livejournal.com]

I am feeling a bit cold actually. Just made a cuppa.

[pegkerr.livejournal.com]

Me, too!