I feel you, Denmark. I grew up in the last dying vestiges of Jim Crow. My elementary school class photos look like they were made in Norway. I didn't have a non-white classmate until I was a freshman in college in 1977. That is also the first time I knew a black person. At all. Really. Previously, they were distant and ghostly figures. The first black person I can remember being friends with was Laurence Lowe. He was on the Georgia Tech football team and lived a couple doors down from me in the dorm. He was a giant. Well, you know, football. TV trained me to be afraid of that. But he was one of the most gentle and kind persons I've known. A genuinely good man. He became a State Patrol. So a lot of my college life was taken up with learning what was right about the way I grew up (not much) and what was wrong (a shitload -- I grew up in Marjorie Taylor Green's district and it has always been that way). I became what I would describe as an 18th century liberal with a sense o...