Blame any typing errors in the shakes. My withdraw from our pseudo-grand tour is causing serious issues for me. I did, however, get to experience once again my very favorite part of returning from a trip overseas.
In the parts of Europe where Doug and I were, everyone speaks English. What they don't speak is American. It makes me beam with joy when I fly into JFK (which is the perfect airport for this experience) and walk up to customs and hear a caustic American accent, that potent blend of too many cultures, speaking a language only tangentially related to the English spoken abroad.
"How you doin'?"
"I'm good." I reply, "Thanks."
"Cool." The customs officer hands back my passport, "Aight, take care, buddy."