ABOARD TRUMP ONE — The candidate loosened his tie and offered me some advice.

“Whatever you do, don’t apologize,” he said. “You never hear me apologize, do you? That’s what killed Jimmy the Greek way back. Remember? He was doing okay ’til he said he was sorry.”

Not to worry, I wasn’t going to say I was sorry for mentioning the name of the fake Indian and then doing a few seconds of a war whoop. About an hour earlier, I had been at the Cross Insurance Center in Bangor, warming up a crowd of maybe 5,000 Trump supporters for Gov. Paul LePage before he introduced The Donald at a weekday rally.

I was speaking extemporaneously when I free-associated Fauxchohantas’ name, and suddenly a war whoop seemed appropriate for the occasion. Moments after I left the stage, one of Trump’s aides handed me his cellphone, with a fresh headline from Politico:

“Boston radio host at Trump event mocks Warren with war whoops.”

The Trump guy smiled. “That didn’t take long.”

I thought “cultural appropriation” was a big deal for the PC police. The definition of which is “use of elements of one culture by members of a different culture without invitation or permission.”

Taking two tenured Ivy League positions from a protected class — I would say that’s aggravated cultural appropriation. Rep. Loretta Sanchez says she went to an “Indian event,” which turned out to be people from South Asia rather than Native Americans, and she indicates her confusion with … a war whoop.

So she insulted two different kinds of Indians and nobody cared. I give the needle to a fake Indian and suddenly everybody’s on the, you’ll pardon the expression, warpath.

I’d joined the Trump entourage earlier, in downtown Boston at the Langham Hotel. As usual, a few hundred anti-Trump protesters had somehow managed to get the day off from their jobs — that’s a joke, get it? — in order to speak truth to power.

One of their more temperate signs said:

“RACIST SEXIST BIGOT FASCIST XENOPHOBE ISLAMOPHOBE TRUMP.”

On the plane, I mentioned this to Trump. He waved his hand dismissively.

“Hillary’s called me a ‘xenophobe’ a few times. How many people even know what the word means? Same with ‘nativist.’ ”

It was fun being on the Boeing 757 with Trump. Before the flight from Boston to Bangor, he’d ordered lunch for the crew — McDonald’s all the way. Not an affectation like Hillary at Chipotle — he tore off the buns (“Do you know how many calories you save that way?”) and then doused the patties with ketchup before gobbling them down.

He travels in an easy chair in front of a large TV screen turned to Fox. He reads until his name is mentioned by one of the anchors. Given how he dominates the coverage, this doesn’t leave him much time for reading.

“Do you see how much I’m on these channels?”

Yes, I’ve noticed. He listened intently as Bret Baier read off some new polls, so I decided to check my messages.

Montel Williams was tweeting at me: “Hey Howie – clearly feeling inadequate again are we? Who are you again?”

In a Twitter war with Montel Williams? Is this what it means to be in the big time? Mr. Trump, when does your 757 plane land at LaGuardia?

Listen to Howie 3-7 p.m. on WRKO AM 680.