Watching all these genealogy commercials that offer to track your past reminded me of researching my family’s past in grade school. I did my research (interviewing my grandparents) and was proud to find out my heritage. Then I went to class.
I grew up in southeastern Ohio, but amazingly, all my fellow students were related to 1)Abe Lincoln, even though he had one child that made it to adulthood and the line died out in 1985; 2)Daniel Boone, even though he didn’t really live in Ohio; and 3)Some random British royalty, even though every student was German or Scot-Irish like 90% of the white kids in Southeastern Ohio. In summation, everyone in my third grade class’s dear old Grandpappy was apparently the direct heir of Sir Bullshit, Earl of Lies or Bob Lincoln, a horse thief who stole Lincoln’s last name to evade a posse. Amazingly, I remember one particular bore was actually claiming all three. Who’s your ancestors, Jenny? “Jesus, Batman, and the planet Mars. Oh and Abe Lincoln.” Good job, Jenny, you get a kick in the ass to help you get back to reality.