Customs Agent at the border."May I see your identification, please?" asked the agent."I'm sorry, but I lost my wallet," replied the guy."Sure buddy, I... hear that every day. No ID, no entry," said the agent."But I can prove I'm an American!" he exclaimed. "I have a picture of Ronald Reagan tattooed on one side of my butt and George Bush on the other." This I gotta see," replied the agent. With that, the guy dropped his pants and showed the agent his behind."By golly, you're right!" exclaimed the. Direct comments and email to [email protected] story has been surfacing and resurfacing in my mind for the best part of the year 2000. It started with my annoyance of cell phones. Not so much about the phones themselves but peoples dependence on them and the constant need to be connected, coupled with the inferiority of the technology. My home so it seems is in a black hole as far as cell service. To use a cell phone you need to go out and stand in the middle of the highway. Still, he said the words anyway. "This is a showstopper, sweetheart. Please ... take it to a lawyer and have them go over it with you. I'm sorry, but this is something I have to do."Dazed, Bailey sat at the kitchen table staring at the document.For the first—and last—time, she doubted Gabriel's love for her.Numbly, she picked it up and drove home to see her parents. They went to see her lawyer/insurance agent and waited for the other shoe to drop.They sat in silence as the minutes ticked. His face lit up. At his age, it must have been years since a woman offered her hand like a lady. He took my hand gently and gave me a slight squeeze. I liked how delicate he treated me."My name is Ned," he said. "I visited Korea when I was younger. The people were very nice"I didn't tell him my home was Japan."I find the people here to be nice too," I replied. "I haven't meet many of my neighbors yet, but those that I have have been pleasant. I think my questions of where the grocery store is.