Have you ever known the elation of having a Spanish-speaking immigrant demand to know why you’ve never learned Spanish? I have. Many times. When I respond by asking them why I would do that, as I live in the USA, it’s fun watching them get flummoxed. Sometimes I follow up with asking what the response would be if I went to their home country and demanded answers about why the natives weren’t all cramming for their English language final. Blank stares. Furrowed brows. Spanish is treated as some kind of exalted, glorified entity. I don’t need it and never have. I would LOVE it if Trump made English the official language. I know a South American woman in a large U.S. city whose husband had a medical emergency. She was shocked and outraged that 911 answered In English, and had a get a translator for her. She COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. The disconnect is astounding. We have Bill Clinton to thank for all the literature at our DMVs being in multiple languages. Thanks Bill. Hey Bill, ask any immigrant to tell you what “YIELD” means, and then ask yourself if you want to be on the road near these clowns.