I had the good fortune to grow up around real, authentic American Indians. The Miwuks, or Miwaks. It hard to spell because they really don't have a language. My brothers best friend was a guy named Henry and some of his relatives are still around and if they find out you knew Henry, well bar the door! They knew all the old ways but wouldn't practice them, I mean after all who would eat an acorn if something better was available, but it was nice growing up with them and never having a clue we were "different".
Unfortunately, Henry and his brother, Butch, both died in auto accidents due to alcoholism when they were teenagers. Ditto their younger brother John. Still there are plenty of their tribe left, but most of them don't know me.
I will be up in N. Calif. at the little town of Klamath on Aug. 17. My tribe is having the annual Salmon Festival and I will have a booth there selling my Indian art work. I've already shipped three boxes of my art to my sisters house so it will already be there when I arrive. They will have Indian barbecue salmon cooked on redwood sticks and possible sea weed but I doubt if they will have acorn soup. Maybe for themselves but not for the public. Also they have ceremonial dance exhibitions and traditional dress. It's really quite nice. The prohibit alcohol at these gatherings.