The open arms of Atlanta’s youth beckon you to enjoy your stay here (and spend money to make our schools better).

Until next time…

When Yvonne told me the beer choices on board today were Heineken or Miller Genuine Draft, I was a little disappointed. Usually flights are catered locally, so I was hoping for something brewed on this side of the pond for this afternoon’s return flight.

When I was asked if Carlsberg was OK, as they were out of Heineken, I perked up a little. Yes, it’s another mega brew, but the idea of drinking an MGD that traveled almost 5,000 miles to my plane seat was not that thrilling.

Funny enough, I had never paid much attention to the Carlsberg label (in fact, this might be my first one ever). In small type around the bottom of the can, it reads “Probably the Best Beer in the World”. I’m not sure if their American labeling makes the same claim, (our “truth in advertising” laws would be tough on that claim I would imagine) but it’s a very cheeky statement for such an unremarkable beer.

If this claim is indeed true, then I might have to re-label my beers as “A Really Close Second to Carlsberg”.

So my quick dash to Manchester is done, except the 9 hour flight home.

Other observations about the trip I have not yet mentioned:

>> The club kids (and I saw loads of them on the tram last night) have no problems wearing short-sleeved t-shirts or micro-mini skirts with no jackets in 30 degree weather(!!!)

>> Manchester Airport doesn’t have anything other than mega-brews (Carling, 1664, et al)

>> The boarding jetway has 20 stairs to navigate between the terminal and the plane (was this jetway designed before rolling luggage?)

Peace out from northern England!

You can tell a lot about a culture by the ways in which it markets products to itself.

At Picadilly Station this morning, I ran across this example of targeted marketing for a chocolate bar. Either it is a legitimate warning to women — “Do not eat me, for I am a very high calorie food” — or double-dog daring women to eat it.

A third theory could be this is the most macho chocolate bar around. Although I didn’t see andro on the ingredient list, the back of the wrapper does say “Do not feed the birds.”

Who knows exactly, but I did end up giving Sainsbury’s my 49p for it. So it worked after all.

England is so into bar sports that one of the *5* tv channels in the whole country is dedicated to Saturday night snooker.

Yes, prime time. Saturday night.

Can you imagine one of our major networks playing the PBA Bowling Tour at 10pm, against Desperate Housewives? We love our trash TV, and can’t wait for the kids to go to bed to watch all the Wysteria Lane hi-jinks.

In France, Canal 2 becomes quite like Skinemax after 10pm — “to set the mood” don’t you know.

With all this nail-biting billiards going on, I wonder what mood is being set in living rooms across the UK tonight.