Someday soon I really have to visit Wells, which I’ve been hearing about all my life and which my parents visited back in the ’80s. They told me it’s a pleasant little town with a big cathedral. A couple of hours southwest of London. Often described as England’s “smallest city” with only 11,000 residents, etc. It means something when your last name is the same as a village with a 2000-year history. (In ’87 my ex-wife and I once visited a town in East Germany called Lauta, her maiden name. Today I checked to see if there’s a town in Ireland named Kenny…nope.) Back in ’80 I was waiting for assistance in a British Airways office in London, and when I heard the guy call my name something clicked. “That‘s how it’s supposed to be pronounced!,” I said to myself. “You just need a British accent to say it right.”
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