Many years ago, my bride and I rented a car at Heathrow and spent about a week driving around Wales. It is a very small and often quite beautiful country and many parts of it seemed to have a far larger population of sheep than of humans. Since we were driving a car with English license plates and dressed as we normally would, we found that the natives typically were quite reserved when we first met them --suspecting we were English. When we talked with them and they realized we were Americans, they warmed up quite a bit. When I explained that I was there to tour the country where my grandparents were born, they became incredibly hospitable. I was actually invited inside to tour the homes where both my Williams grandparents were born. That was an incredible experience!

Prior to that, I had a co-worker named Powell who told me he was going to celebrate his Irish ancestry on St. Patrick's day. I told him that Powell was actually a Welsh name. Most names that start with a P are Welsh names. In the old days, the Welsh used Ap followed by their father's first name to name the child. Powell was an English spelling of the Welsh name Ap Hywell. I met him again a few weeks later and he had asked his oldest living relative about this. "Darn you, Morgan, he said. I'll never be able to enjoy St. Patrick's day as much again!"

The Welsh are quite proud of their singing. I'm about 3/4 Welsh and 1/4 Dutch. No offense to the Dutch, but I wish I could sing like a Welshman.

And, while educating you all on this, please be aware that the term "welshing on a bet" is an English slur and we take it about as kindly as others do the N word.