Sad but true, I am a mutt.
I can trace my roots back to my dear old Dad and Mum. And that is pretty much it. I mean, I don’t even know what my grandfather’s names were, let alone where they came from or who their parents were. So my interest in genealogy has always been pretty limited.
The good folks at Family Forest have this cool idea that we are all interconnected. When we watch The Tudors, we are watching our relatives. I guess this idea could be applied to any historical show that deals with real people who lived and had families. There are groups, like The Daughters of the American Revolution, that are all about this kind of thing. But really, why should I care if I am related to some famous dead person? This is kind of like the people who swear they are reincarnated, they all used to be Cleopatria or Ghengis Khan. No one was ever a serf or a slave. Funny that. . .
I know a couple of guys that are really into Scottish Clan stuff and wear kilts that have approved patterns and weaves for thier paticular Clan. The term get-a-life springs to mind. I have the same feeling about people that can trace thier dog’s pedigree back to some middle ages pooch.
It’s not really my thing. I never stop at those little booths at tourist traps to find out my family crest and get that nice bit of parchment to hang on the old lodge wall. But that could be just me.
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