“Hallo” did not exist as English greeting until the telephone. The hot college girls I was futilely trying to pick up (the hot one sitting next me had a boyfriend and spoke good English, being a major in foreign relations at her university) had a serious boyfriend. “Ja” I think you understand. Like most American Southerners, I am not a hyphenated American, and proud of being a mutt. I am Dutch, Cherokee, Choctaw, Swedish, German, English, Welsh, Cajun, and who knows what else. We’ve been here since these Johnny Come Latelys like Trump and Rasputin Miller (whose people are only 3 generations in), which is why most American Southerners choose “American” as their ethnicity - we’ve been here too long and too mixed. There’s a reason why Southerners are considered more authentic than Yankees or Left Coasters. My people were the Grapes of Wrath dupes who never owned slaves but wound up poor men fighting a rich man’s war and during the Depression were the inspiration for that carpetbagger John Steinbeck’s Grapes of Wrath. Still got lots of cuzzins back in Cali Bakersfield way.

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Once every 6 months or so, I fondly get drunk again for old times’ sake. How is John doing these days? I’m worried about him. I tried to give some advice to him, but he hasn’t been back since.