The Patron Saint of America…

Now that’s what I call a kebab.

So here’s yet another St George’s Day. Yes I’m one of the one-in-five who know that St George’s Day falls on April 23. We’re a patriotic bunch us English, a quarter of us don’t even know who our patron saint is. Try asking an American who’s the patron saint of Ireland and they’ll tell you - but Saint George? Mind you, ask an American who’s the patron saint of the USA and you’ll probably get the same answer as you did for Ireland.

Of course Saint George was actually Turkish and a Roman Soldier.

And the patron saint of scouting – dib, dib, dib, watch me woggle.

Yes, (sarcasm alert) us English are so patriotic, you can tell by the dozens of red roses being worn on the streets and the hundreds of red and white flags flying above them. You get more patriotism at an England football match than on our national saint’s day, and that’s saying something - I don’t quite know what, but something.

Just what is being English all about these days anyway, what is it that sparkles in the precious jewel that is our England? Are we about Yorkshire pudding, Blackpool, dialects, Cheddar cheese, and honey still for tea? Or are we more chicken tikka, Benidorm, chav chat, rubbery Cheddar cheese made in Ireland, and Big Macs?

Even St George is an imitation of the real thing. He never set foot in England and was only adopted by us because the story about him slaying the dragon was very similar to an old Anglo-Saxon legend. To make his English link even more tenuous he’s also the patron saint of Lithuania, Portugal, Germany, Greece, cities including Istanbul, Genoa (not really, she’s just an acquaintance), Venice, even bloody Moscow - and you can’t get less English than Moscow; except for maybe the USA.

No wonder I’m so confused. I’m not sure if I’m meant to be British rather than English these days; perhaps if Scotland vote ‘yes’ it’ll help clarify who we are a lot more than who they are, because they’ve always known - well, the kilts are a dead giveaway.

Maybe I’m expected to be a European. Why isn’t that an European? God forbid I’m ever a European… or an American. Oddly that is an American.

Oh well, English, British, European, American… Cry ‘God for Harry, England and Saint George!’

Just who is the bloody Patron Saint of America anyway?