[Me, and {the} US]

As a growing young man I used to listen, every Sunday morning on BBC Radio 4, to Alistair Cooke’s “Letter from America”.

I remember on one occasion he described how he wrote the fifteen minute talks.  He said something along the lines of: “Never tell them how it ends until it ends!”

That’s how I write my presentations: even my academic work if I can get away with it; even today: “Never tell them how it ends until it actually does …”

A second thing this growing young man took from Cooke’s attachment to the US was his profound affection and love for its people and institutions, both.

And I thought to myself: “If it’s good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.”

Now, more than ever, we need another Cooke in the kitchen of what should remain an oh so special relationship.  I wonder if this will happen, though.  I wonder if such humanity still exists.

And so I love the America of Cooke’s considered commentaries, even as such a US never ever loved me back.

And maybe now never will.  Maybe it was – even then – a construct which honestly never existed.

Curious places and times I have lived.  Curious places and times.

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