I once dated a gal from Wisconsin, a saucy one of German extract. I could tell she thought I was some sort of anachronism from the 1850s. My great great grandfather’s Confederate sword hung over the mantle and she was fascinated by this and other artifacts in my house. Playing into her prejudices, I told her some whoppers that may have been some of my best lies ever. My son had just turned 13, and I told her that it was a tradition in the South that when a boy turns 13, his father arranges a “dalliance” with a youngish woman, and my family had engaged in this practice since well before the Late Unpleasantness with the Union. There is more to this story, but it is not very PC, so I best leave the rest for another time.
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