Please Sir, May I Have Some More?

Hello internet, Deb in the City here, live from uncharacteristically sunny London, England.

So I decided to try and do some real sight seeing and in the spirit of Oliver which was very influential for me, I trekked over to Kings Cross to the Foundling Museum.

Starting with Charles Dickens, a strong case can be made for Britain’s genius in converting the social tragedy of abandoned children into a lucrative export product in the entertainment industry. A movie, a musical, a movie-musical, numerous television adaptations and an animated series can all site "Oliver Twist" as their source.

Dickens apparently based much of his well-known book about London orphans on stories he heard from children at what was the Foundling Hospital,

In the basement, there is a wonderful exhibit of art work by young people who have been “looked after” in foster care.

This picture, done by a young lady named Amy Brittan carried a quote alongside:

“You can do anything you want with art, it can be rubbish to other people, but good to you”, not unlike this blog.

I managed to find the modest gift shop, because an American, it is my god-given right to buy something on any occasion and I picked up a couple of very nicely done orphan paper dolls.

Grateful for being born in the 20^th century and not the 18^th I wandered out once more on streets that have been here since before my country got mad at this one and jumped ship. I know it’s uncool, but I am amazed by all the history around here.

But London’s modernities are impressive too and I am very curious about civic signage that I’ve seen.

There is the ubiquitous:

And accompanying camera. Americans love to be on camera and we are bred to believe that we deserve to be on television and become famous, so to me closed circuit tv is still tv. Watch for me on the next installment of Farnborough’s Got Talent.

So, whenever I talk to my friends back in the States, they always say something annoying like “Did you see the Queen yet?”, as if Her Royal Majesty is on some kind of permanent display for tourists, which she probably would be back in the US.

But just the other day when I was lost in the cement back alley of the Southbank Center I ran into a small crowd of people waiting by a very non-descript entranceway. I looked to the curb and saw this beauty:

The royal flag and lack of license plates gave it away so I patiently waited, feeling a little bit like a fake since I’m not even a subject of the crown, or anything official like that. Everyone around me in the little royal scrum was telling me stories of their last royal sightings and all I could contribute was that I’d seen President Obama’s dog the last time I was in Washington.

My patience was rewarded and in a few minutes, there she was.

I found myself suddenly queenstruck and though I am not at all a monarchist, I totally spazzed out and the next picture I took

betrays my royalty panic. I have to say though, when the driver turned the key on that Bentley, dude it purred like a kitten. I don’t really understand queens and stuff but as a Yankee, I am glad that Missus Betty Windor has got a sweet ride.

This is Deb in the City, where I have been up to London to visit the queen, like the pussycat. Mrrow.