An (Excitable) American Boy

Praise is not something I pay a lot of attention to. I suppose that I would have to receive it before I could acknowledge it. A photography professor of mine, back in the day, laughed at one of my pictures and said, "Billy, you are an American." That was good enough for me. Somebody noticed. Ernest Withers had asked me to do a photo job for him and after I asked him a question about it, he said to me "You're an American, you know what to do." High praise from the finest American that I have ever met. After 9/11, ballparks started playing "God Bless America" at some point during the game. The Pawtucket Red Sox were playing the version by Celine Dion. She is a native of Canada. I have nothing against our neighbors from the great white north but mentioned to Ben Monder, the owner and resident polar bear, that Kate Smith, as red white and blue as they come should be singing it. He growled, "If you can find it, I will play it." I did, (Thanks Mr. Amazon!) and to this day, she warbles once a game across the Elysian Fields of McCoy Stadium.If that is my only achievement in life, I will die a happy American.

No comments: