I'm here in California where I've spent most of my life with the exception of a fair amount of travel and military service and the Peace Corps, but I have roots in Moneyderra, Analong, Belfast, on the slopes of the Mountains of Mourne. My grandfather inherited a business that included both a funeral parlor and a saloon, and my grandmother, a temperance activist, made him refuse the inheritance so he came to America to work on the railroad. I learned the song The Mountains of Mourne from a Kingston Trio album, but my mother had known it all her life. She and her sisters tried to get me to add to the version I sing a fifth verse: "We saw England's king from the back of a bus; we didn't know him but he seemed to know us. . ." I could never make myself sing that one, whig that I am, despite my aunts' royalist tendencies. Anyway, I still have relatives in the Belfast area, Orrs and Gordons, whom I hope aren't Orange fanatics.