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Published in Gulf News, December 5, 2006

Living in pop-culture central

When a New Yorker sees the subway train to Harlem, it's unlikely that the jazz standard 'Take the A Train' comes to mind every time. Similarly, a Californian on the Santa Monica Boulevard is probably not humming 'All I Wanna Do' by Sheryl Crow, the way I do whenever I see the sign. The Americans I know find it amusing how exciting I find having these references come to life. Living in pop-culture central takes some getting used to.

At a screening of the controversial Borat the other week, I was stunned to see that the last scenes with Pamela Anderson were shot in the same mall in which I was watching the movie. There she was, running across the same car park I'd cross to get home. To my surprise, my fellow theatre-goers bore this revelation with equanimity, not bursting into applause the way I thought they might.

I'm slowly taking for granted being in the thick of things where movies are concerned. It's hard not to when the newspaper carries sections with pages and pages of movie reviews, and when free test screenings are on offer all the time. I now watch the films before the debates begin (as in the case of Borat) and not the other way around. It's easy to forget that, living elsewhere, I used to ask deep questions of every movie I read about: "Will it come here? If so, when? And once here, will it be recognisable?"

Then there are the stars. I haven't had a sighting yet, but it fills me with wonder that Britney and K-Fed are squabbling only a short drive from me; that Snoop Dogg is from the town I visited for a party the other month; that some of the most famous people in the world potentially share roads with me. Even concert listings are so far removed from what I've known (the occasional hit band a couple of times a year, and the rest left to unknown local groups). Here, every listing has familiar names - from Gnarls Barkley to Steve Miller Band, mentioned so casually that I keep doing double takes as I read.

I actually miss the excitement that surrounded big-name concerts in India and Dubai - when all the newspapers carried lead-up stories, there were posters everywhere and everybody was talking about one thing. Remember the Robbie Williams craze? I wasn't even in Dubai and I remember it.

On a more personal level is my experience with that supposed remover of boundaries, the world wide web. 'Supposed' because the web can be extremely US-centric, so it's still a novelty for me to no longer be an outsider to free-shipping offers, "enter your zip code for the weather" boxes, competitions and dealer locators.

In the last week I have gone online to buy air tickets, apply for a visa, buy replacement camera parts, bid on LPs, pay utility bills and book an appointment at the local department of motor vehicles. Nothing out of the ordinary as internet transactions go, but a huge change of attitude for somebody who was too suspicious to do more than order a few CD's from Amazon every year. It isn't just me being revolutionary though - distances and costs in this country just make it easier to do it the internet way.

The sum of all this, though, is ironic. Feeling like a child let loose in a toy shop only makes me more aware of the damning power of the knowledge that there's an entire world outside the United States of America. Living here, you can see why so many Americans tend to forget.

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