During one of the royal pageants that periodically choke the streets of London, a conservatively dressed American approached me.
“You must be so proud,” she trilled, and she became quite truculent when I told her I felt nothing but shame. “How can you hate your country?” she snapped. “What’s the matter with you?” “I don’t hate my country,” I replied, “and there’s nothing the matter with me. Like you, I am a republican.