Flew from Dallas to New England a few days ago. In a professional setting on the meaning and purpose of philanthropy, in as it happens the City of Brotherly Love, I mentioned the parable of the widow's mite from the Gospels. Seeing my educated interlocutor's eyebrows go up, I quickly apologized. "I live in Dallas, but I grew up in VT. I am sorry about that." My interlocutor waved an impatient hand in dismissive forgiveness, "That's ok," he said, "I went to Boston College, was raised Catholic, go on...." I managed to settle things down again by quoting Maimonides, Cicero, and Boethius, gradually working myself out of the Dallas-Jesus hole I had stupidly dug for myself. But it was close call all the same.