Landing at the Heathrow airport for my first UK Tour. I heard that the London police did not carry guns. Well, at least that was what I was told. What I would soon find out was that, they may not carry guns. But, “when the shit hits the fan”, as it did when my plane landed. They had a way of finding AR-15 rifles, when they needed too. Those rifles came in handy, when they wanted to eject the belligerent passenger, who had been harassing a female flight attendant during our flight. Welcome to London! Well, after that shocking experience, I immediately went into cultural shock.
When I arrived at my 5 Star hotel, where every piece of furniture looked like an antique. Not only did it look like a antique, it was one. Every time I tried to sit down in the lobby, some front desk clerk, would jump out from behind some plant and say, ” sorry sir, you cant sit in that chair, the queen sat in that chair.’No really sir, that chair is 200 years old.” And another thing, in England, they can’t just turn the heat on when it gets damp and cold. Which is pretty much all the time.
The temperature has to reach a certain Celsius before it can kick in. So, being from California, I asked for a quilt until the heat could reach 35 degrees Celsius. Yea, they laughed at me. I knew what they were saying about me behind my back, “He ain’t no gangster”. Also, there is no personal space in London. Standing in an full elevator, people stand in your personal space, as if you were the invisible man. And there is no such thing as eating alone in London. Since space is limited, random people will just sit down at your table, without asking. Welcome to London! The cultural shock forces you to want to bond, with other tourist, who arrive from America.
It was like you were trapped on an island, and had to write S.O.S. on your forehead, to get their attention. Wait, I am on a island. Then one day Colin Powell’s limo pulls up to my hotel, and before he checked in, I wanted to walk up to him and surrender. Just like how the Iraqi Soldiers Surrendered in Kuwait. I had enough of the bland food, stepping in front of traffic and looking in the wrong direction, being in genderless bathrooms, being on the London Underground during a bomb scare, while everyone takes there own sweet time. What the hell is that all about? Performing in front of audiences that don’t emote. “Feelings!” And witnessing Live Art Performers, who have a strange fixation with, blood, dead animals, and dead fish. As Colin Powell walks past me.
I realized that, he’s not even going to notice me. Because he has better things to worry about, than my safety and security. He’s thinking about being the first black President of the United States. Yea, like that will ever happen in my lifetime. And no, I did not perform in the nude. Not that performing nude in the UK, is a big deal. Believe me, performing in the UK in the nude, is not a big deal. If you performed with your clothes on, someone would say after the show, ” it was a great show, but not much nudity”.