As a lifelong American whose pedigree in this country extends to before our Revolutionary War, I am uniquely qualified to comment on the culture and qualities of my fellow Americans.
Not to put too fine a point on it, we are for the most part, fat, lazy and spoiled. Americans would no more resort to riding bicycles on a wholesale basis than they would consider eating haggis for breakfast.
So anything that forces my friends and neighbors out of their oversized, overpowered, luxe living rooms on wheels is considered the Spawn of the Bowels of Satan. Thus all of the whimperin' and whamperin' about gas prices.
If my comments reflect a certain disgust, so be it. I have more than once threatened to pull up stakes and leave this country (I would, of course, resettle in my beloved Dunedin, and hopefully live the life of a content expat), but my timing appears to be disadvantageous.
In my kinder moments, I think we resemble the Brittania that existed shortly before the colonies began to get ideas of their own, and I hope we are smart enough to guide ourselves to a stable place near your own. When the winds howl, I fear we more resemble a corrupt and vile Rome as the primordial Huns stormed the gates.
[/RANT]
Whew. Did I just write all of that?