St Andrews, 1996/1997
In my last year at university I shared a flat with two friends. One was much addicted to frying venison burgers, the other had a good line in stomach-turning breakfast chit-chat (”Last night with G was sooo amazing. Hey, Ben, have you ever stuck your finger up a girl’s…”)
When we moved in, we clubbed together to hire a television set and a video recorder. It was a good investment and, after we’d got over the argument about spending a few quid extra on Teletext so that one flatmate could keep up with the cricket scores, I watched the box a lot. I was particularly fond of the repeats used to pad out the afternoon schedules and, before long, I developed a taste for the Fresh Prince of Bel Air.
One of the early episodes bothered me, though. Throughout the drama, Will Smith was desperately keen to visit the part of the city he was originally from. His aunt and uncle were dead set against the idea. So far, so fine, but what I couldn’t work out was this: which city?.
I forgot all about it but, just a few days later, my friend Bill and his then girlfriend, Amanda, came round to drink wine and watch a film. She was - indeed, is - from Virginia. I don’t remember the film, but I do remember looking at Amanda as she sat on the floor and saying to her:
“Tell me Amanda. In which American city can you find The Hood?”
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