When I first went to New York I was nineteen and I’d never been outside London.
So naturally I thought everyone, everywhere was just like me.
I found out they weren’t when I got a subway train to my art school in Brooklyn.
I knew I needed to change trains at Jay Street, and again at Hoyt Schermerhorn.
So when I got to Jay Street I did what I’d do in London.
I asked a member of staff.
I went up to the change-booth and said, “Excuse me, can you tell me which the platform I need for trains going to Hoyt Schermerhorn please?”
Silence.
He must not have heard me.
I said, “Excuse me, could you point me towards the platform for Hoyt Schermerhorn?”
Nothing.
I said, “Excuse me.”
It was like I wasn’t there.
Then I remembered a friend of mine back home, who’d been doing A level French.
He said it was no good speaking French with an English accent.
The secret was to speak with their accent.
He said, although it sounded silly to us, you had to imitate Maurice Chevalier as you spoke.
The fat bottom lip, the shrugs, the whole nasal “Haw-hee-haw”.
So I thought, I wonder if that’s what I’m doing wrong here.
Speaking in English instead of American.
So I turned back to the man in the change-booth and shouted, “HEY BUDDY, HOYT SKIMAHOYN!”
He pointed and grunted, “Platform 4”.
There it was.
The words weren’t enough, you had to learn the language.
Later, in Brooklyn, I wanted to make a phone call and needed a dime.
I went into a coffee bar called Nedicks.
Behind the counter was a really tall black basketball player type guy.
I held out a quarter and said, “Have you got change for the phone please?”
At least that’s what it sounded like in my head, but I do have a London accent.
He said to me, “You wha?”
I said, “Can I get a dime?”
He looked puzzled, he said, “A duy–yum?”
I said a, “A dime.”
He shrugged and said “A duy-yum?”
Then he turned to an old Jewish cab driver, drinking coffee at the counter, for help.
The cab driver said to me, “Whaddya want?”
I said, “A dime, a dime.”
He looked puzzled and said, “A dow–wum, a dow–wum?”
He gave up and went back to his coffee.
I mimed dialling a number and holding a receiver up to my ear.
Eventually the black guy’s face lit up and he smiled.
He said, “Oh, you want a da-ahm, for the phone. Whyn’t you just say so man?”
I thought I had.
But apparently not.
I’d learned the language, but I couldn’t unlearn my accent.
It was pretty much like that all the time I was in New York.
I’d call up a creative director to try to get an appointment, and it would go like this.
The secretary would always ask who was calling.
I’d say, “Dave Trott.”
She’d say, “Dive Truck?”
I’d say, “No, Dave.”
She’d say, “Dive?”
I’d say, “Let me spell it: D – A – V – E.”
She’d say, “D – I – V – E?”
And I’d have to say, “No, first D, then A (the first letter of the alphabet) then V, then E.”
And eventually she’d say, “Oh you mean ‘Dave’. You sound Australian.”
Yup, I sound just like Crocodile Dundee.
To you.
It reminds me of a joke I used to hear about two soldiers in World War One.
An American soldier and a cockney soldier meet in the trenches.
They share a cigarette and start to talk.
The American soldier is very patriotic, he says, “I came here to die.”
The cockney soldier says, “I came ‘ere yesterdie.”
Which is why I always tell students, you can work anywhere in the world if you’re an art director.
Because visual language is pretty much universal.
But if you’re a copywriter you can’t.
Because spoken language isn’t.
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Perhaps, but you got somewhere when you spelled your name down the phone didn’t you? If you’re a writer do you have to worry about people reading in their accents? Especially English writers moving to the states and vice-versa. Once you learn the nuances of a place you can write your way out of most situations surely. It’s VO artists that can’t catch a break abroad.
And try art directing in a Muslim country if you think you can’t offend people with images.
I had a similar experience to Dave’s except the other way around. Originally from New Jersey and after living here for 15 years, I’m now a British citizen. I found English as a common language as a bit of cultural red herring. If I’d viewed British people as culturally different perhaps closer to Finnish or maybe even German - my working life would’ve certainly been easier. When I go back home to New Jersey now, they think I’m English or gay. Or both.
Crocodile Trott in Brooklyn. ROFL!!
Keep these comin’ Dive.
I’m Asian Dave and before I went to London for the D&AD Workshop, I made sure I learnt rhyming slang and other English colloquialisms.
So I knew what folks were talking about.
In fact, it was kind of fun to join in on conversations folks thought I couldn’t understand.
But the biggest problem was asking for directions.
I was trying to get to Malcolm Gaskin’s then agency on Greek Street.
When I asked for directions, somehow, not a passerby could make out that I was asking for “Greek Street”.
So I had to write out in a Magic Marker on A3 pads where I wanted to go.
But there was no way out on the phone.
Directory Assistance just couldn’t get me when I tried getting the number to “Royal Brunei”.
And when I showed my long copy ads (to CDs, not men in the street) folks were amazed I could write properly.
Oh, what fun.
This reminds me of the Berlitz commercial from a few years back with the German Coast Guard ham radio operator and the sinking American ship. Here’s a link if you are not familiar:
http://video.msn.com/video.aspx?mkt=en-us&vid=431d9254-82bc-4a2d-8e81-5472e86ce4fb
Hi Rick,
You’ve reminded me that years ago, when I first went to NYC, there were lots of language problems.
I saw one of the other students smoking a cigarette.
I said to him, “Do you mind if I bum a fag?”
He said, “Do what you like buddy.” and walked away.
That’s in West London near Windsor Castle
Where they don’t say ‘assle they say hassle
We had a lad with us he worked hard but he was a rascal
Says he originally came from Glasgow
http://thebasildonbloggerstrikesagain.com/
I don’t know why you’re talking about foreign countries.
Try talking to someone from Southend
I suppose this is true, but “ideas” are also universal, and a great copywriter as you’ve noted before is really hired for his clarity of thinking and not necessarily his finesse with language.
Definitely true about the whole accent thing though, it’s even more important to have a mastery of the American accent whilst on the phone.
Jack mate, really cool website. I think I’ll buy a mug when I get the time.
Dave,
As a British writer who’s been working in the States for over 10 years now I can totally related to your tale. To this day I still have to check myself for “Britishisms” when writing copy, whether in individual words or subtle turns of phrase.
I had a similar experience to your appointment story in a local book store. I was trying to locate the Humor section and approached the Information Desk for a little guidance. The encounter went something like this:
ME: “Excuse me, could you tell me where the humor section is, please?
SALES GUY: I’m sorry?
ME: The humor section.
SALES GUY: Oomah?
ME: No, Hu-mor.
SALES GUY: Ooo-mah?
ME: Hu-mor!
SALES GUY: I’m sorry, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.
ME: You know, humor - laughs, jokes, funny ha, ha - that sort of thing.
SALES GUY: Oh, humor! It’s over there by the back wall.
No word of a lie.
Ian,
That’s because to English ears, when you say ‘Humour’ it sounds like ‘Yumah’.
Like when you say ‘Herbs’ it sounds like ‘Erbs’.
Which is strange because, as you know, over here it’s only cockneys that don’t pronounce the ‘H’.
What they call the Glottal-Stop(or in cockney Glo-al Stop).
http://ex-blank-page.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-reply-to-daves-great-posts-58.html
Same thing happened to me speaking Spanish in Barcelona. Nobody heard me speak until I dropped an octave and started talking like a local.