I was just reading Poets and Writers and saw one more ad for a summer writing program touting its “internationally recognized” faculty, when it dawned on me: I, too, am internationally recognized!
No, really. My husband and I were in Florence on our honeymoon, walking quietly down the street admiring all the not-actually-sculpted-by-Leonardo da Vinci statues of David, when he suddenly shouted, “JOHN BURNEY!” And John shouted back, “BOB DUNN! PAM KRESS!” or words to that effect. He knew who we were; that’s the important thing. We knew each other because we worked on the same college campus together, way back in Iowa.
So, you see? He recognized us, in Italy, and, therefore, both Bob and I can say we are internationally recognized.
Study this picture, so if you run into me in Venice, or Dublin, or some island off the coast of Greece, you will also recognize me, and I can say that I am overwhelmingly internationally recognized.
That was easy!