Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

My dad and I went to perkins for a last minute breakfast before i went back to morris. He wrote a check for the food and as we were walking out the man asked "your name is ha--ar?"
Yea
"mine is the same"
he then told us how he changed it to hager (a common spelling, but originally it was hajjar as ours was) this is was interesting.

He asked us about our family, where we came from, when.

Lebanon, early 19teens, to south dakota. we asked about his. lebanon early 1900s north dakota. with intermittant return trips. (he was born in lebanon, came to the US 15 years ago)
some more chat
my dad couldnt remember what city we were from and he was later so we ran off. My dad joked "maybe you should have me over for some lebanese cooking." (he had said that they still cooked) the guy was about to write down the number, when my dad walked out. (i thought it was really sad that my dad (being a full american now) wouldnt take the guy up on it cuz americans arent really friendly. blah blah blah

strange though

i told my dad i had been wondering when we lost our culture. my great grandma came here when she was 14 and I didnt know i was lebanese (or what that was) until i was probably like 12.