You can't swing a dead cat without hitting a Starbucks here

I arrived in London on Monday night. The driver and I chatted about Florida. Everybody in Britian has been to Florida, I think. It's become the item I chat about most with strangers, besides the weather and the traffic. Everyone has a story about Florida.

This gentleman got roped into replacing another relative on a family reunion trip to Orlando. He and his girlfriend eventually skipped out and drove to Clearwater beach and took the second B&B they found "after the roundabout." It was immaculately clean to the point of it being threadbare due to the patron's OCD with the vacuum cleaner. He had been to Frenchy's and walked out on the pier at Clearwater Beach, and the sunset and the extra starch in the sheets improved his opinion of Florida immensely.

We spoke about all the different sorts of accents there are in the UK. How intresting it is that such a relatively small country should have so many. It tells such a story. The British Library has a great website on the study of this: Sounds Familiar? I know there is a similar project in the US to document regional dialects before they die. With the advent of mass media and even the most remote places losing their remoteness, everybody is beginnig to sound like everybody else.

There is a Starbucks on virtually every corner in London. As prevalent, if not moreso, than Boston. There was a time where the sight of a McDonalds or a bottle of Coca-Cola would be an unexpected comfort after spending days, weeks, months, in a place where nothing reminded you of home and everything smelled and tasted different. I can imagine trekking your way out of the Amazon and, like an oasis, a cherry red ice box filled with green glass bottles of Coke being the best thing you've ever seen. (Yes, I've seen Romancing the Stone one too many times.) Or, after days of eating the local fare, a visit to the McDonalds would be just the right thing, even if you don't eat it at home, even if it costs you $30. To experience something familiar while you're away can be a memorable experience in itself.

I remember being in Rome in 1989, and seeing someone walking down the street with a Dunkin Donuts bag. Where in the world did you find a Dunkin Donuts? we all asked incredulously. McDonalds had become ubiquitious, but anything else was a shock. And Dunkin Donuts of all places? Even now, you can't find a Dunkin Donuts in parts of the U.S. But back in 1989, seeing someone walk by the Trevi fountain with a "coffee regulah" was absolutely shocking. And of course we decended on that Dunkies like wild dogs and bought our $5 donuts and ate them in a sugared haze and laughed at all the other Americans who, walking by, took a double take and stopped and said Where in the hell did you find a Dunkin Donuts around here??

Now, everything has become global, and those welcome little surprises of turning a corner and seeing something familiar in an unfamiliar place have become so prevalent that they do not provide that same sense of comfort that one might seek after weeks away from home. Now, it's almost embarassing how invasive it is. How every city looks the same. Am I in London or New York? Now, here I am outside of London, and there's a mall down the street that has a Chili's, a T.G.I. Friday's, a McDonalds, a Domino's, a Bennigan's and a Gap.

So, that day, I bypassed the Starbucks on that corner in Covent Garden, to go across the street to a more authentic coffee house. It was bigger and had nice tables and a few leather chairs and was populated by locals. I crossed the threshhold and was greeted with a lungful of cigarette smoke. I always forget how un-used-to second hand smoke I have become. I sat at a table with a view of the street and sipped equal parts awful cappuccino and second hand smoke and had a debate in my head about the real value of insisting upon an "authentic experience" while I watched hoardes of Englishmen and Englishwomen walk in and out of Starbucks with smiles on their faces, greedily gulping their venti mochafrappacchinos.