A journalist’s impressions of the U.S. west coast

Press, Volume CXVI, Issue 34044, 7 January 1976, Page 10

A journalist’s impressions of the U.S. west coast

The escalator; deposited us on the mezzanine floor of the plush J round-towered Washing-1

ton Plaza Hotel, in Seattle, at the precise I moment that four very large women burst into a _ loud but harmonious' rendition of “Down by 1 the Old Mill Stream.” ; We had arrived, an;! amused desk clerk informed' I us, at the venue for the nat-l jional “Sweet Adelines” con-h Jtest, a female version of the; (barbershop quartet. ! The Adelines — there seemed to be thousands of., Them — waxed lyrically and! I harmoniously on. They were still acknowledging the ap-| Iplause, when a second group, .gave voice. A third and; fourth group were also; iassembling within the vast; I foyer. ■ For a week, while we remained in the hotel we I would, quite unexpectedly, j encounter Sweet Adeline i groups — outside lifts, behind potted plants, in odd • little niches inside the foyer. At the drop of a hat they would warble all those lovely old hits from yesteryear.

PLEASANT MEMORY The Adelines, their beautiful singing, and their quite uninhibited approach to “their thing,” remain one of my most pleasant memories of my stay in the United States.

Many other aspects of American life on the West Coast were impressed upon me; and I left the mainland with a head and camera bag full of Californian and West Coast graffiti.

There may be much of that trip I will forget. I will never forget the charming people of this coastline — a I charm at total variance with the impression created on television of American people.

We first experienced the entrancing personality of the West Coasters in Seattle, a beautiful city not unlike! Christchurch in climate and beauty. The people here, and later in California, displayed; a great willingness to assist, and their courtesy and delightful manners had us all goggle-eyed. From the hulking cop, with a truncheon on one hip and a revolver on the other, to sales assistants and just ordinary people, the courtesies, assistance, and smiles were always there. With the exception of the rudeness of a New Zealand receptionist at our Auckland! hotel, I do not recall anyi moment on the tour when;, all was not sweetness and light. •HAVE A NICE DAY’

It is only now, on returning to New Zealand, when I stand in a shop waiting for a shop assistant to break off

her conversation with another to serve me, that I think back to Macy’s and' Sears and Zukor’s and other! San Francisco stores, and I the helpful, smiling assist-i ants and their parting wish; that I “Have a nice day.” Of course, it is a sales: gimmick. Everybody recog-1 nises it as such. But it is I said with a smile — and the day brightens a little. There are things about the: United States I like to remember — like coffee, and hotdogs, wine tasting in the Napa Valley (a favourite week-end outing for Californians), ail manner of exotic foods never before tasted, and the friendships I made. There are things I would sooner forget — iniquitous tipping; $1.30 for a small bottle of beer, or $l.BO for a whisky or gin; and panhandlers, mostly young men who exist by accosting pedestrians and asking for money. Market Street, San Francisco, has many of them. OTHER IMPRESSIONS Some other impressions: of all goods displayed for sale “plus tax” (at 6 per cent); of the many discount stores where the marked prices on a dazzling array of watches, electronic, radio, and photographic equipment, are only the prices at which bargaining begins. , There was the need to remain constantly alert — a beautiful gold wrist watch, prominently displayed in a shop window, for $3B (plus tax); an Omega at that price. “No," said the shop

assistant when 1 looked closer and asked questions, it was an Omeca. It was probably a brother to the gold (coloured) wrist; watch that magically appeared in the palm of a tall,! 'Negro gentleman zig-zagging, I his way along the footpath: and then just as quickly dis-i 'appeared when I shook my head.

A highlight? I was per-1 suaded to accompany friends Ito an opera in San Francisco. They did not know the opera (it turned out to' be Verdi’s “Simon Boccanegra”) nor had they any' ;idea of the identity of the I artists. But I went, and with '6OOO others, applauded and i screamed “Bravo” for the magnificent artistry of Kiri |Te Kanawa. She captivated ! ,San Francisco that night. j COMPARISON OF PRICES j How many other memories there ’are — of inicessant sirens through San ! Francisco and Los Angeles; of four shots fired by somebody at somebody or something at 4 a.m.; at the high cost of telephone calls (10c for each local call); of a 10minute syringe treatment for a blocked ear and the bill (the minimum price) of $2B. One useful and interesting little exercise I carried out was to compare prices of various commodities. Foodstuffs (particularly meat and dairy products) were high ($l.BO for 11b of butter; $1.30 for 11b of honey). Household commodities, in many instances, are ridiculously cheap (25in colour television with remote controls with limited warranty home service for one year, $599.95; a smaller model, down to $282.) Then there is the car market and petrol prices which, to a large extent, now influence the car market. Petrol prices vary from garbage to garage, but premium Jfuel remains about 60c a ’United States gallon.

In Honolulu, a new, 1976 Chevette car could be bought, with a host of! extras, for $3790; a new Malibu classic (automatic) for $5668; a 1973 Mazda (20,000 miles), for $1960; and a Toyota Corolla (56,000’ miles), for $726. Bigger pet-rol-consuming American cars! are almost given away. BUILDINGS ; Of all the buildings, espe- ‘ Icially the high-rise blocks, iwe saw, none stands out so ! ! vividly in my mind as the' : amazing Hyatt Regency ; ! Hotel in San Francisco. It 'features a sky-lighted cenitral court more than 300 ft long by 170 ft high and a revolving rooftop restaurantlounge.

My last memories of the mainland United States are of Disneyland 30 miles outside Los Angeles and a paradise for young and old. In eight hours I had seen only :about half the fantastic attractions this wonderland ioffers.

An answer to a question 1 have been asked many times since returning to New Zealand: the United States is a wonderful country to visit, but I would not like to live there.

The writer of this article. Barry Simpson, is a staff reporter of “The Press,” and one of eight New Zealand journalists who recently visited the West Coast of America.