Mayflower? Hummmm. Let's see now, my mail-order clairvoyance classes are certified up-to-date and I have my crystal ball polished and at the ready. I will now gaze deep into the shadowy past to see if there might be a Mayflower connection for me and for mine.
Lets see, there I am swallowing a whole watermelon single-handed whilst sweltering in the oppressive heat of last week, now it is the busy week before and I am looking for the cat and being stung by a bee, the weeks are flashing by now and through the blur I see that friend SNAFU has just started something mildly interesting on the Sim HQ site cryptically titled "Here's What Happened". I am sitting there seemingly wondering if I should post a story.
I can see by the bored looks on your pinkish faces that this is going far too slowly isn't it? Let me try to focus more quickly on our Mayflower connection. Wait, I see it clearly. There is such a connection!
When we moved to our new home just over 30 years ago most of our possessions arrived here in the shady grove of pines and oaks on a green and yellow "Mayflower" moving van. Does that count?
Well, it is obvious that though I made an honest but un-entitled attempt at writing what being "British" meant for just two men, the Skipper and the great Cecil Rhodes, being "British", "German" or "American" for that matter is really a very personal thing indeed.
I think I am entitled to and do know what it means for me to be born in the USA. I am breast puffing proud to be an American. I am an American whose ancestors immigrated from beloved Britain and other nearby countries so that by their many struggles and sacrifices one fine day a single golden ticket might be purchased for me. Therefore by virtue of such loving generosity I am to be counted amongst so many Americans who have, along with their British cousins, also won the "Lottery of Life".
------------------ "Blessed are they who expect nothing. For they will not be disappointed." - Edmund Qwenn, "The Trouble with Harry"
