September 19, 2007

I'm Bored With the USA
Identity baggage

Ryan Lowell | contributing columnist
rlowell@smcvt.edu

            “Well there’s three people in the mirror, and I’m wondering which one of them I should choose.” – The White Stripes

I swear, everything was going great, and I just had to start watching that damn British comedy. Now according to all of the pre-departure packets I’ve been reading, I’m not supposed to feel anti-British sentiments until the honeymoon phase of my trip is over. I figured it would take several weeks for me to feel such bitterness, or that I would at least have to get off the plane first. There’s only one logical explanation for these hostile feelings, and it’s that jerk Hugh Laurie.

For those of you who don’t know him, Hugh Laurie is the guy who plays that pompous doctor on the television show House. Now I’ve never actually seen it before, but I was opinionated enough to decide three years ago when I saw a 30-second advertisement, that Laurie’s character was a pretentious punk, and that by extension, Laurie himself must be a pretentious punk as well. I wasn’t thinking of Laurie when I tossed some random clothes in a suitcase and declared myself officially packed for London, but little did I know, this man was about to make packing day a lot more difficult.

Bags loaded, I decided to reward myself by kicking back to watch an episode of the British comedy show Blackadder. The first couple scenes were hilarious, and I began to embrace British comedy with open arms, until a makeup clad, wig donning, Laurie stepped onscreen and blew my mind. He didn’t end up being the jerk I had typecast him to be. Instead he turned out to be a talented, funny, multifaceted British actor. Naturally, my initial reaction was that I had to repack my bags.

As I tore through the mountains of clothes stacked in my suitcases, I pondered how I had written Hugh off as a one-dimensional ass, when it turns out that he, like all interesting people, has so many different elements that they can almost be considered different identities. I started to think that if Mr. Laurie could be seen as a completely different person overseas, couldn’t I as well? As I unpacked my bags, I started to realize that based on what I bring and what I do during the next three months, I can temporarily take on a completely different identity — a notion that both terrifies and fascinates me at the same time.

I started to analyze every piece of clothing I had packed, and how it would fit into this new concept of me. Will the kids at the disco understand that I’m leaving the top two buttons of my Gap button-up undone to show that I keep it classy but I still came to party? Will my flatmates understand that my cutoff Kiss T-shirt is a joke, and that no intelligent American could ever genuinely enjoy the music of Kiss?

In the end, I couldn’t really decide on a particular identity, but I still decided to cut my wardrobe in half. This packing fiasco was all brought about by misconceptions and first impression issues, so I figured that it would be good not to perpetuate the stereotype that Americans have way too much material crap (even if it is true).

I like to think that the locals will appreciate me for not bringing that 17th witty novelty tee, and see it as a gesture that I am willing to let them shape my new identity instead of just bringing America along with me. Of course, underpacking could have its downsides too. I mean, I don’t want to buy an entire wardrobe overseas, I’ve heard the knickers cost twice as much. All of this could have been avoided if that darn Hugh Laurie wasn’t such an intriguing, versatile guy.

Man, what a jerk.