-A letter my grandfather wrote for me
In a few weeks you will leave to study in a foreign land inhabited by Brits where they speak a language called British. It is reputed to be barely understandable by Americans. As an Ambassador to the Brits you may be stressed avoiding the pitfalls of socializing with them and their strange customs. Even the Brits find their Home such a disgrace that they spend their waking hours in a neighborhood pub guzzling beer and munching fish and chips wrapped in old newspaper surrounded by the often audible action of the jaw. Between bites they laugh derisively and ridicule Americans for not using electric teakettles. When the pubs close late at night they creep home and tip toe to their quarters and plug in their teakettles. Secure in the knowledge of living in a superior more sophisticated civilization.
Nearly all Brits drive like maniacs on the wrong side of the road. Their favorite car is a low slung two seater. Almost Invisible! This is their way of eliminating foreigners, especially Frenchmen, from their land.
Despite their Idiosyncrasies they are rather stoic. The occasional bombing of a pub, department store, or train by Irish or Moslem hardly effects them. They go about their business with the same determination that made them the masters of the world.
“May your studies be worthy of Ganesha”- Hindu God of education, knowledge , and wisdom