Turns out. Boris is Russian.

I was at a medical clinic today. For a routine procedure. Involving ultra sound. The technician told me his name. Boris. 'Sounds Russian,' I said. Sure enough. He was Russian. Came to the U.SA. 20 years ago. Speaks like an American now. He came from St. Petersburg. My gosh, I thought. How wonderful. To have grown up in such a fantastic and historic city. Asked him if he liked St. Petersburg. No, he didn't. Confessed that he didn't like anything about Russia.  And I thought, what a shame. I've never been to Russia. But I'm sure I'd like it. Especially St. Petersburg. I told Boris. I have a dream. Of going to St. Petersburg. Some day. Where I'll meet and converse with Russians. Possibly named Boris. --Jim Broede