“As long as there’s a sunset there will always be a West”

Last weekend across the United States was Labor Day weekend. The last weekend of the summer with an extra-day tacked on for good measure (much like our August Bank-Holiday Weekend but with a catchier name). For students in Norman this wasn’t the last weekend of the summer, the autumn semester has already begun and Saturday marked the first football (read "American football") game of the season. It seems that this alone isn’t enough excitement for Oklahoma residents and as Labour Day weekend is a time which many put aside to spend enjoying family activities Saturday was a natural time for Oklahoma State Prisons to hold their annual inmate rodeo. So it was that I would be enjoying a double dose of American Culture, a morning experiencing the joys of Game Day in a university town with a top team in College Football and an evening in Oklahoma State Penitentiary at McAlester sitting on a concrete bench enjoying "the biggest behind-walls rodeo in America".

Firstly you have to understand that College Football is taken very seriously in The States and that OU’s team, the Sooners, is one of the top teams in the country. Any game day is huge in a town like Norman which is built around its university and the first game of the season is more than good reason to celebrate, even for those without tickets. I had heard tell of tailgate parties before but prior to Saturday I hadn’t fully comprehended what a tailgate party is. Imagine a city of trucks and those cheap plastic gazebos and folding chairs with drinks holders which have become so popular at British music festivals. Add copious amounts of beer, often a TV (some even with satellite receivers), barbeques (especially the kind with huge gas canisters that you never thought particularly portable – unless of course like most of the people here you have a GIANT TRUCK). In short, it feels like a 3 hour long festival with fewer drugs, far more pep, several generations and with everyone wearing the same colours. So, I began to wonder: why is it that pre-match American style is so much more pleasant than pre-match British-style? I can’t even begin to imagine walking around a football stadium in Britain just for the experience. I doubt there’d be as much good feeling and there’d probably be a lot more swearing and vomit. Perhaps the marching band, with its herds of trombones and flutes, its twirler and drum major, adds to the familial feel of the occasion? After all a marching band gives the geeks something to do and this particular marching band is known as "The Pride of Oklahoma". You see they’re not just the pre-match and half-time entertainment but "The Pride" no less. Geek and jock, side-by-side, taking part in the Game Day phenomenon. It could of course be the weakness of the beer. In Oklahoma beer that is sold anywhere but a liquor store (read "off-license" but harder to find) can only have a maximum 3.2% alcohol content, there is stigma attached to going into a liquor store (blame the Christians) hence most beer drunk in OK is weak "light" beer that tastes of nothing and you have to drink gallons of to be even a bit tipsy. It would certainly explain the lack of vomit, violence and foul-language.

As I think more about how unpleasant it would be on a game day in the area around a British stadium and try come up with reasons for the huge differences I hear the pre-match prayer echoing from behind the stadium walls. At this point I begin wonder if the predominance of Christianity amongst the game’s participants and supporters could account for the difference in atmosphere. Despite the general feeling of inclusiveness you might get by seeing all these people, all these generations, could it be that there is more than just a love of football linking all these people? Perhaps that everyone shares more or less the same "family values" (whether or not they actually live them) explains how they all manage to get along? Who knows? But there must be a reason right? Perhaps if back home our sport-watching communities all looked down on drinkers of anything other than light beer and all shared the same beliefs we too could have peaceful match days? It seems a lot to give up.
Surely though there are things from the All-American way enjoying sport that we could include without having to include a pre-match prayer and watching a flag go around the pitch. It would certainly be nice to see more families, all ages and both sexes at matches, why shouldn’t geeks get a part to play in otherwise sporting events? A little national pride mightn’t hurt us and finally a bit more pep wouldn’t be such a bad thing especially if it involves pom-poms and cute girls in short skirts.

The Pride of Oklahoma

After a morning at the university watching marching bands and people cheerfully wearing crimson and cream and drinking weak beer an evening of less pep and more danger sounded like a nice change to me. So we set off east a couple of hours to McAlester to the prison rodeo. An inmate rodeo seemed like a rather odd idea to me and it was no less odd in practice. To illustrate the mind-set of many of the attendees of the rodeo here are two of the slogans on bumper-stickers on one of many trucks (they like their large vehicles here) in the car park: "Bowhunting: No Guts, No Glory" and "I love animals, they’re delicious". Rodeo is entertainment western style and all the "cowboys", their large trucks, their families and their mullets come out to play. The arena is concrete with concrete bench-style seating painted bright blue and with lines dividing up the seats, lines which really don’t allow quite enough room for many of the crowd, whose bottoms spill over into neighbouring seats. One such spectator is the woman with the oxygen tank a couple of rows in front of us who between herself and the three other members of her party take up not four but seven "seats". This is America and bigger is better and more is best. This is perhaps no better demonstrated than by funnel cake; I see many people eating a foodstuff that I haven’t encountered before and I ask Amanda what it is. I’m informed that this is funnel cake and the amounts I see some people consume convince me that it must be good and so I persuade her to share one with me. We have perhaps four bites each before giving up, full and slightly nauseous from the experience. Meanwhile I see people around us going back and forth for more and more. I’d wonder where they put it if I couldn’t see where.
When the entertainment begins a voice over the loudspeaker informs un that we are going to be treated to a demonstration by The Glory Riders a "white horse ministry" and who are going to do a trick-riding version of the second coming of Christ. Every moment here it dawns on me more and more quite how all-pervasive this Christianity is - even a rodeo is another opportunity for the churches to compete for more fodder. A girl standing on top of an (actually off-) white horse dressed as an angel enters the arena, a second follows her and then following them rides a third person flying a flag saying "Christ is coming". The three ride around for a bit and when they leave in comes what I can only presume is "Christ" a portly man all in white (including cowboy hat) and brandishing a sword (I suspect he’s the minister of this so-called-ministry). Then comes the rest of the flock, flying flags with various names for Jesus on them they do a few tricks generally with "Christ" at the centre of it all, there’s some bowing, some walking backwards, the usual stuff. When it all comes to an end and I think this silliness is over and we can get on with some rodeo fun out comes "Old Glory" (the American flag) and is strutted around and given just as much reverence as "Christ" was. Next comes my favourite bit, a nice little speech by commentary man about how "this melting pot of ours" isn’t working and how maybe we should all just be a bit more Christian. What I like best is that it doesn’t strike them that maybe the melting pot would work a little better if they stopped trying to make everyone a little more Christian. Somehow I sense that there’s not much use pointing this out. Now I had just the National Anthem to get through and then the rodeo could begin, if only I could have completely forgotten the intolerance of it all I might have enjoyed the "bulls and blood"…"dust and mud" of the rodeo even more!

Inmate Rodeo

Team USA

Oklhoma, land of the very flat. "Native America" according to the license plates, though it seems to have escaped the licensing authorities that most Native Americans were chased out long ago. Home of the Boomers – capitalist profiteers from the oil boom - and the Sooners – cheats who snuck in before the allotted time of the land run, claiming land when really they shouldn’t have. What’s more: not only is this their home, but they’re celebrated – Everywhere! "The Sooners" is the name of the University of Oklahoma football team, based here in Norman. College football is huge in Norman and it’s almost impossible to go anywhere without an OU banner, a Sooners bumper sticker or license plate holder, not to mention that whatever shop you’re in will have a corner or an aisle of the shop dedicated to selling Sooners merchandise and that’s both in and out of season! It seems strange to me to name your team after a bunch of cheats but I’m sure that’s not the only thing I’ll find strange about Competing America.
This is Bible-belt country and not just the leather. This is the metal, the buckle. Churches line up along main roads competing for business. The buildings themselves could often easily be mistaken for warehouses if it weren’t for the occasional perfunctory steeple added, as if an afterthought, to the roof or for the billboards outside offering salvation. This isn’t the only way the various churches compete, last week I picked up a copy of the local classifieds only to find a Gospel supplement tucked inside. There’s a general religious fervour here which seems to go hand in hand with patriotism. Unless you’re a God-fearing Christian with Christian family values how could you possibly love America?! Again, within the pages of the classifieds, hidden amongst the ads are patriotic and religious exclamations. The US is the best and knows the best. (see "From Pastor Bob" excerpt from aforementioned Norman Classifieds Gospel supplement)
Last Saturday the Olympics finally came to a close. The opening ceremony was a spectacle to behold, not only because of the wonderful job done by the Greeks to remind us of the history of the Olympics and the celebration of the Olympics returning to its home after so long, but because of the spectacularly jingoistic commentary provided us by the American commentators. I would think it could be taken for granted that every country will have its own interpretation of events like this, especially one that pits them all against one another. Moreover that it’s even the job of the commentators to "big up" the national team a bit. But NBC’s commentators Katie Couric (America’s Lorraine Kelly) and Bob Costas (the USA’s youthful and tooth-perfect Des Lynam) really had me gagging. Apparently what makes the American Olympic team so great is the combination of the "Midwestern balance of power and grace" and the "Californian beach dynasty". I’m not entirely sure what happened to the rest of the country. In-line with the media’s policy of terrifying the nation into a complete state of panic, an entire between-ads-section was devoted to talking about security at the games. We were told that The Games, in a world where "terrorism [is] a constant threat" provides "a convenient intersection in a tough neighbourhood". Goodness! Even I was frightened! It all just made me very thankful for all the extra security than they assured us of in the next segment: the cost being five times more than at the Sydney Games, and twenty-five times more than that at Atlanta in 1996. With this kind of manipulative media it’s no wonder that many Americans are looking to lumbering brutes like George W. Bush wading in with his tough words and action. There’s a man really doing something about the many "tough neighbourhoods" and "convenient intersections" occurring all over the place all of the time! There was something else that bothered me about this American opening ceremony coverage though and it didn’t take me long to be bothered…about 3 minutes at a guess…the ridiculous number of commercial breaks. The show was just off to a start, the presenters had just introduced themselves and *BAM* it’s time to be sold to! Back again to some more smug commentary and just a smidgen of pageantry before it’s time for another break… This pattern continued throughout the whole show and although it wasn’t being shown live anyway, so it didn’t really matter it just made me wonder: Is America a country of tiny bladders? Perhaps they all suffer from attention deficit disorder? Maybe it was particularly bad form of hypoglycaemia causing them to all need to eat something every few minutes? I wish one of these were the reason, but ultimately it’s all about money. Even The Olympics, which is supposed to be about nations coming together, becomes a celebration of capitalism on America’s TV screens. Competition within The Competition!
So far I’m noticing a dichotomy in Competing America. Competition seems to be both incredibly important but at the same time they give the impression of being utterly convinced that they are the best. Perhaps it’s a sign of some deep-seated insecurity or perhaps just an astoundingly arrogant and wrong-headed need to prove it to everyone else. Perhaps as I delve deeper into Middle America I’ll discover which.

Excerpt from the gospel supplement of the Norman Classifieds

From Pastor Bob

East Carondelet, IL
Is It A MYSTERY ? ?
Everyone seems to be wondering why Muslim terrorists are so quick to commit suicide.
Let’s see now:
No Jesus, No Wal-mart, No television, No cheerleaders, No baseball, No football, No basketball, No hockey, No golf, No tailgate parties.
No Home Depot.
No Pork BBQ, No hot dogs, No burgers, No lobster, No shellfish, or even frozen fish sticks, No gumbo, No jambalaya.
More than one wife.
Rags for clothes and towels for hats. Constant wailing from the guy in the tower.
No chocolate chip cookies.
No Christmas.
You can’t shave. Your wives can’t shave. You can’t shower to wash off the smell of donkey cooked over burning camel dung. The women have to wear baggy dresses and veils at all times.
Your bride is picked by someone else. She smells like a donkey, but your donkey has a better disposition.
Then they tell you that when you die it all gets better!
I mean, really, "IS THERE A MYSTERY HERE" ??