Derb: Thank your lucky stars that you don’t have a ridiculously common name. In college, there was another John Miller in my dorm. When I got to Washington, there was a John Miller in Congress. There’s a baseball broadcaster with my name. And if you’re interested in my book, Our Oldest Enemy: A History of America’s Disastrous Relationship with France, going to Amazon.com and entering “john miller” in the search box isn’t the best way to go about it. I haven’t written a tour guide of New Orleans, a driving instructor’s handbook, or Darling Judi: A Celebration of Judi Dench (which isn’t to say I don’t consider her a fine actress). I am not now nor have I ever been a professional golfer. Furthermore, I have no plans to take up professional golf. My middle initial is “J,” which alleviates some confusion but hardly all of it. When the Miller kids were born, I proposed first names like Conan and Elrond and Ichabod. If I had known you back then, I might have proposed Derb as a first name. I doubt my sensible wife would have gone for it, but I still might have tried.