Not the Mexicans
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Since it last occurred to me to muse on my American expedition, an awful lot has happened. It’s been months since I was in Dayton at the Air Force Museum, and that scares me a bit. Life seems to move quickly. So as I sit here with a chilled Chenin Blanc, my favourite music warming my ears, I feel it might be nice for completeness if I continued my self-important ramblings about what I did when I went to America.