Roger Bennett was and is an obsessive. Name an offbeat hobby, and the media personality probably took it on as his own while growing up in 1980s Liverpool, England: chess, golf, karate, birdwatching, model railroads and imitating the flowing-mane artistry of Bjorn Borg while playing on the tennis court.
There were also the sounds, tastes and ideas of America that he couldn't get out of his mind. The boom-bap of Run DMC, the delectable cookie sandwich known as the Oreo and the Chicago Bears. Bennett couldn't get enough of the USA, consuming its exports in any form.
But really, it was the longing — that universal ache shared by anyone who has ever grown up in a place where you felt you never quite belonged.
"One of the earliest beliefs that I still cling to in life is that I was born an American trapped in an Englishman's body," Bennett writes in his new book, "(Re)born in the USA: An Englishman's Love Letter to His Chosen Home."
"That is the kind of story you manufacture about yourself when you grow up in a place like Liverpool in the 1980s," he writes. "Back then, the city was apocalyptic. When I first watched 'Mad Max,' I thought the wasteland Mel Gibson braved appeared like an upgrade in comparison."
The 50-year-old found fame with the popular "Men in Blazers" television show/podcast, in which two dislocated Brits (Bennett and co-host Michael Davies) chat about international soccer from New York. Bennett's love affair with all things stars-and-stripes led to his naturalization in 2018.
"(Re)born" is Bennett's coming-of-age tale. Sure, there are the usual misadventures in love, life and adolescence. But it's his obsession over the little bits and scraps of Americana that formed him: Nights spent poring over the pages of Rolling Stone to curate a record-store shopping list of 1980s Minnesota alt-rock, or mainlining the teen-angst comedies of John Hughes, or calling random Chicago-area phone numbers on Sundays to check the score of the Bears game. He's as true blue as a pair of Springsteen's 501s.
This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
Q: The book is a lot about the things we love about America and how we perceive ourselves, but also about how what we see about ourselves isn't always true. What was your journey of falling in love with America?
A: I grew up in Liverpool in the 1980s; it's the greatest city in the world to come from, but it was a very dark time for Britain in general and the north of England in particular as industry collapsed, the economy plummeted and unemployment soared. Liverpool, a bit like Baltimore but without the crab cake upside, was a port through which — when we had an empire — almost all the industrial might poured forth from. Obviously, empire gone and business not so great, so the port of Liverpool lost its raison d'etre.
And I felt like my life was lived in black-and-white. So I started to feast on every morsel of America: "Hart to Hart," "Fantasy Island," "The Love Boat," "Miami Vice," the John Hughes movies, Public Enemy, Run DMC, Tracy Chapman. And they all became morsels of a life that seemed to be lived in color.
Q: Your description of Americana from the outside looking in reminded me of a bunch of coming-of-age stories: I think especially of the British teen inspired by Bruce Springsteen in Sarfraz Manzoor's memoir "Greetings from Bury Park" — that became the film "Blinded by the Light." Were there any specific books or stories that you turned to while writing this or spoke to you as a kid?
A: Every morsel of Americana inspired me as a kid: the books, movies, music television shows. I tried to navigate the world by drawing strength from Don Johnson. Genuinely. Seeing "Miami Vice" from the perspective of Liverpool, I was like, "Holy crap — teal! That hasn't even been invented in England yet."
The message of that album ("Tracy Chapman") was, everyone's suffering, don't be afraid to make change and get out while you can. I'd look in the mirror and say, "I am Tracy Chapman."
In terms of books, "Fargo Rock City" by Chuck Klosterman. I had that on the corner of my desk the whole time I wrote. It's a book that transports any reader to that time and place and deposits you in teen Chuck's world in all its wonders, awkwardness and glory.
Q: Have you prepared yourself for what happens if your kids get swept up by British culture? And what would you tell them about the culture there?
A: I've learned in this process that while this is my American story because I lived it, that longing isn't unique. I have learned in times of challenge, it's a very common thing for Americans to romanticize the Manchester music scene or become Cure obsessives.
In my darkest hours, the school I went to was like, children should be seen and not heard. Where corporal punishment was normal — you would come home thrashed and bleeding, and parents would go, "Oh, not a great day at school, was it, love?" So my reality was fairly dark. I created this alternate Rog in my head — this American Rog that lived in Chicago, that watched the Bears live and knew how to socialize in a joyous way and [could] do everything that I couldn't do with swagger, Chuck Taylors and a pair of real Ray-Bans — and that was my escape hatch.
Q: Your past books have been about summer camp and bar mitzvahs; what about those life events and your memories from "(Re)born" about that journeying to the part of youth where everything seems so open and wide particularly fascinates you?
A: I'm fascinated by that formative time where everything feels fluid. Where we're all filled by hopes, dreams, fears, failures — a lot of failures. Some successes, some other people may have had during that period of time, but for me, not so many. But that's the place where who you are is forged. To me, that story you tell yourself about yourself, that's where everything can be decoded, and I feel that there's so much human truth in that period. Which makes it the last moment of human honesty before things harden.
In that period of time, if you think back, almost everyone was funny, had a great sense of humor, or saw themselves as a joker. And then life kind of kicks the crap out of you.