I’d like to testify that I was one of those damned Yankee kids who moved into Rod’s home state of Louisiana from, gasp, Massachusetts (or Massatoosits, as they call it there). Indeed, Rod and I have played the “do you know game” and found many a common acquaintance. “Yeah,” was the standard response when asked a question from a teacher. No disrespect intended, but I was broken of it. But I do object to the notion that we Carpetbaggers called adults by their first name. It was always “Mr.” and “Mrs.” (not Miss), and I found the Southern approach (“Miss Cathy” or “Mr. Billy Bob”) a little too informal for children. So let’s not pin this all on the imports.