Why I was not in America?

Topic, why I have never been to the USA, calls in the memory of the type of type "Why am I not Christine?" Berran Russell, or "Why i’m not a modernist?" Mikhail Lifshitsa. There is something flirty in this matter. After all, if you think about it, in the liberal and versofimy of the UK, no one rushed to the church on the winds did not drag – I would try to compose this book in the 30s, for example, in Italy. And Lifshitz not to be modernist in the USSR in the 60s it was easier than. However, even in New York, the epoch "Celebrations of disgrace" it would not be repressed for this too.

And nobody sank me in the States too. But still strange: why I have never been to the US? Everyone who was not too lazy, defended in queues for a visa (and I don’t need a visa), I returned either delighted, or smoothing. But I dreamed from the aid sentence: I taught English from the Jewish reflamming from Brooklyn, he heard American music. Woodstock and Monterey were a medina for me, I read, dying through Slang, it is not clear where taken "On the road" Jack Keroaca, broke out for a sextal view "Easy Rider". Spoken with acquaintances on a crypto-American dialect, on which suede shoes were called "Swedish shudge" (remember Blue Suede Shoes), the turtleneck had a name "Dallaska", And the dark glasses of the Tsamen McNamar (in honor of the military minister of the Vietnamese war) – "spectrum".

I made a few attempts. The first is still in the art school. My father then worked as an APN correspondent in Washington and sent me an invitation. With this piece of paper I was called to the meeting "Troika". Does anyone remember that it is?

Fizruk, Chairman of the trade union, said that I was not able to spit it out, it was not that stretched twenty times, so I eat my socialist homeland in America.

Teacher history of the party, Patorg, asked what the last book I read. I honestly answered: "Krakatit" Karel Chapeca. She did not hear about this book – I do not blame her – and pursed her lips. Representative of the administration – the director of the school made a verdict: in America I will not be.

Three years later, in the early 70s, accidentally and dangerously met somewhere on a visit to the visitors of Americans-Slavist suddenly at the table began to read the US Constitution. I showed a slightly ironic amazement of his memory.

– You will never be a good American, – he said to me, believing that all the inhabitants "slave Russia" only dream of ascending on "Motherland courageous". Then I wondered, which tormented one Zen sage from Japan: "Is it worth changing the country of mosquitoes on the country of flies?".

I took the second attempt when I had a serious deep novel with a correspondent of one of the American magazines in Moscow, already in the time of the rotten Chernenkovsky autumn of Patriarchs. She was ready to go out for me, humanly, not transport. She explained to me that I would have to work as a seller in a bookstore, give the lessons of our "to these stupid americans", work on a challenge. She did not have a high opinion about his homeland at all, as it was put on the left American intellectual, but in critical moments in her words honestly and justified the love of his native Arizona, to the town of Nukla in Colorado, where she began his career in the newspaper "Nucla Liberation" (the editorial office was on the second and last floor of the hotel, there was a saloon and a billiard room on the first, where the sluggish shooting was required in the weekend). I learned from her a lot about "One-story America", About the places like Boulder, Colorado, where she continued climbing the heights of the profession, the swamps around the Baton Rouge, German settlements in Iowa, about the degenerates from the Rocky Mountains, about the similarity of Ronald Reagan with Brezhnev in terms of senile dementia, about total idiocheme as Washington Administration and alternative ecologically socialist-homosexual futuristic minorities.

She told a lot and beautifully about the magnificent nature of her country, about the Big Canyon and the volatile beauty of the desert, about the forests of Vermont. Thanks to her, I read the book of ingenious Henry Toro about life in the hut on the shores of Walden lake. Her eyes I read American Creations Nabokov. She was a smart woman instead "Budweiser" saw "Perrier" With Lemon, Hamburger preferred Belgian acne under the Shatvlev sauce, spoke with a well-developed new-English accent and dressed in modest clothes from "Kenzo", supplemented with an absurd bowler, then aluminum gloves. The second attempt failed for personal reasons.

Later, the will of fate, I met her in Paris, Brussels, Nancy – Roman dispelled European winds.

The third attempt, quite weak, happened when I lived already in Paris, and my Paris friend, American, who lived in Europe for more than twenty years, told me that the university is not the Nebraski, not the southern Dakota urgently required "Professor of Art", that everything grasped, the rector of her old "Copain", that is, the koreh, such a salary, such conditions are. I didn’t have things in Paris at that time, the revenues were lower than the allowing, I would be seduced.

But Judith I explained to me five minutes that I either come out of the local circumstances, or go crazy, but in the first one, and in the second case, I will tear out the window, and since the floors are more than three, in this "Fucken Dungo" not found, the university will have to mess with my checks for surgery, which is not a gentlemen. I believed her.

I knew her stories about her childhood in Texas, where she, the only child in the family team, was forbidden to play with colored children. When she was brought to "wind" Chicago’s city, she was surprised not to skyscrapers and noise, not an abundance of cars in narrow streets, but interracial communication. O San Francisco of the late 60s, having a creative madman, about the village of Taos in New Mexico – Reservations tired of the city duria of the creative elite of the post-war time, about R.I.S.D. – "Rhode Island School Design" in a quiet schizophrenic town of Providence, Rhode Island, the greenhouse of architectural, artistic, computer and musical guerrillas of the American avant-garde of those times when N.Y., N.Y. pompously called himself "THE CITY OF LOOKS". That is, you are what you look like.

I saw she slandered when I gave her a drawing with a yellow rose – "The Yellow Rose of Texas", Emblem State "Lonely stars". In short, I did not get in the US again.

Fizruk was right. Although there is no socialist homeland, I would definitely be sneaken by the ocean. I will never be a good American, Lord a lot. And in general, the athlete is given only three attempts.

Although in the US there are people, places and things that I would like to see. I would be pleased to meet with Lori Anderson and Stephen Spielberg to understand what he had in his head, and with the driver of the Cleveland truck – El Paso to urge, as far as he looks like his twin from the debilile films. I would be glad to see "Mesos", Cutlery Mountains Arizona, Cape Code (I really love Moby Dick Melville), Rivers and Mountains of Washington. I would go to Daiton, look at the best "Harley-Davidsons" America.

But what I would not want to see is Las Vegas and Los Angeles, New York Publishing Houses and Gallers, Houston and Fort Worth, Roadside Restaurants and Motels, Rapper Recompretization Studio, "B-B-Q" and "Velika party" with fried sausages and frozen beer, an American prison, where from humane considerations

It is forbidden to smoke, and awards ceremony "Grami".

I will add to this "our Tea Rooms" and American french restaurants. Better to Brighton, in the fatty thieves of the former colleagues in the passport. I, however, I also do not want.

I am aware that I am easy to reproach me in vulgar anti-Americanism. But I love this country, despite the physroom and my inability to be a good American. US steel for me something like the Kremlin from "Moscow – Petushki" Erofeev. It would seem why I need there? It seems to be.

But how thirty years ago I wore "Swedish shudge" and "Dallaski", so now I continue to do not what is supposed. I do not go to America. What should I do there? I have no relatives there, business necessities is not converted. And the money is headed for tourism and the Rotosaism – I will spend them to spend them with great and pleasure.

I heard several times that New York is a champagne bath: bubbles, playing, penetrates blood. It is impossible to stay for a second. Do not know. I don’t really love champagne, but if, then it is better inside. Grow to us. That is, regarding New York, I quite have enough sips of his taste, expressed in stories about him. With me and Moscow is quite enough, which also bubbles, as the translated braga. Niagara, Large Canyon, Dead Desert and Alligator Missisype "Bayoux" Surely impressive, but.

For some reason, I want to go much more in Mongolia, Japan either, at worst, in Iceland. Or on the edge of light, away, on the green pastures of the southern island of New Zealand. It is necessary to keep infantile dreams.

And then – the case of habits. No matter how nails have nails, American advertising, no matter how much "McDonalds", Whatever the way you are convinced that between our and Americans, the time of the century there are lovely, almost mystical connections – ours, with all Asiachin and Byzantism, habitually feel like Europeans. Europe is afraid, belong to it with inadequate sneaks, but it is neighboring, utilities. Our affinity with the Americans may only be expressed in the fact that the last from the ocean look at Europe with the same mixed feelings.

I also wonder what: I have seen a lot of ours who have lived in European countries who have fallen into the nature of these countries. Appearled with Ne. They go to the Alps, on the sandy Dutch dunes, wanted to the hills of Tuscany or roam the forest under Stockholm in the same way as they did in the suburbs, Crimea or somewhere on the wind of the wind. They have favorite corners, mushroom places and their hemps for rest. But I have never seen a our American who could tell me something similar on the history of our Europeans about their nature "Second Motherland". Maybe I’m not lucky. From our overseas compatriots I heard only about the incredible scale of the American "Wildlife", about distances from the point "A" to paragraph "V" (as if it can surprise ours), that in Los Angeles garbage, coitot, and Washington – Raccoons. About how they looked at the Niagar or viewed global "Pueblo" in New Mexico. Even those who own country houses in Vermont or Delaware, can not really explain what is in their district, except for the shopping center, lakes / sea shore and nearby lying. Probably the fact that European nature, despite miracles like the Adriatic coast of Dalmatia, Alps, Scandinavian Fioriths and Islands of the Greek Archipelago, is modest, commensurate to a person, sparkles that beauty that does not distract, but, on the contrary, it helps to concentrate on history, culture, "The ability to live" and other universal values.

I died Diffiramba Europe. But I know how much false and superficiality in it. I have no illusions. I remember that quite recently in her center smoked pipes that idiotic bloody wars like Balkan occur in it, which almost half of its population is prone to xenophobia. But in Europe I have a few favorite corners and, like my ex-girlfriend from Nucla, Colorado, "Big Mac" I prefer "Les aiguilles a lhoseille".

I do not like that it is forbidden to smoke that at the Olympics in the Atlanta of their deceit in comfortable villas, and visitors are clogged by four in the stuffy motel number. I do not seem reasonable to me that one of the main factors of the American policy is to be spoiled by unstained sheets, and the fact that for reasons "political correctness", Because he is not white, the court justifies the criminal. It seems to me mysterious, as Bob Dul, in its physical and intellectual qualities, is quite childly to our confessional generals, may seriously act as a presidential candidate. After all, I once had "American dream"; And the fact that in Russia there are damn that, at all, not justifying someone else’s fool.

No, not otherwise, I will be accused of anti-Americanism. And will not be allowed in the US, even though I am not a communist, not a tuberculosis, not syfilitic and not suffer to trachoma. Or, on the contrary, send me there for a re-education.

It would have to come to terms. Would come to go to America. And, I do not pass for the hardness of my convictions – perhaps I would remain there forever. Build "American dream".