There's no holiday, there's no election, and the war in Iraq is over (theoretically).

But walking along seven blocks of a residential street in Hoboken, New Jersey (birthplace of Frank and my vantage point for attacking NYC), I counted 23 unique properties displaying the stars and stripes (excluding commerical premises and cars). Some of them weren't just flags either, the house-owners building ornate shrines to the American standard.

Another interesting observation is that they seldom seem to be one-offs, and the star-spangled banner appears in clusters, a kind of super-patriotic keeping up with the Joneses.

And it struck me that as hotbeds of nationalism go, Hoboken probably isn't anywhere near the top of the list, compared to say, Stupidsburg, Minnesota.

So what this unassuming little English boy is really saying is: huh? What gives?

I suppose it's just one of those things that emphasises that for all their similarities, how different the UK and the US really are.

New York makes me smile, though, and I've got a date with a big, bronze lady.

(Atlanta: T minus one)