Nuts On A Twisted Family Tree
by Dave Gagon, Deseret News staff writer
Thursday, February 03, 2000
used with permission of the Deseret News 09 November 2001
Telling friends about your family history is like a bath. At first it's nice, but then it's not so hot.
Just last week during lunch, after three minutes of discussing my illustrious ancestors, my eating companions fell into a stupor, their eyes glazed over.
A few days later, I cornered another crony, showing him the pedigree charts that absolutely proved I was related to Alfred the Great, William the Conqueror and Charlemagne. But instead of sharing my excitement, he was struck by a severe case of "gene jealousoma," causing him to turn away disgruntled and dubious, a snarl etched in his face.
To me, it seemed inconceivable that no one found my "royal" lineage exciting, even when I brought up ancestors like Niall of the Nine Hostages -- a Celt king from the 400s who was famous for kidnapping a 16-year-old St. Patrick. Then there's Eochy "of the Long Hair," another Celt king, who had ears like a donkey. Every year, Eochy would pick someone to trim the long tresses that concealed his ears, and each year he'd kill the unfortunate barber so the poor wretch couldn't tell anyone else about the ears. (Funny thin was, Eochy was delusional. Everyone knew he had big ears.)
No matter how interesting or quirky the story, the moment I began talking genealogy, my friend would inevitably glance at their watch and say, "Oh, wow! Is that the time?" And off they'd run.
So it was that I came to understand that friends, no matter how good or how faithful, just aren't interested in your roots.
While bemoaning the fact that no one cared whether I was related to Charles "The Fat," Louis "The Stammerer" Sigurd "of the Forked Beard" or Charles "The Baid" I picked up a volume of Will Durant's "The Story of Civilization" to do a little light reading on my illustrious progenitors.
This, however, was a big mistake and only made me feel worse, for in the reading I discovered my family tree has some really twisted and randy branches.
Oh, there are the sundry wam-hearted, equitable lawgivers, like Harald "Blue Tooth," devoted spouses and intellectual giants like Louis "The Pious." But there are also murderers, thieves and perjurers --and those are the kings!
And talk about short fuses -- William the Conqueror, writes Durant, "cut off the hands and feet and gouged out the eyes" of a group of people who reminded him that his mother was the daughter of a tanner.
Touchy!
I also discovered many of my Medieval "mothers" were concubines: well-born -- and some not so well-born -- wenches who one day caught the eye of an already married duke, earl, lord or king while he was out for his morning ride.
And if that wasn't bad enough, nearly every one was marrying their cousin or niece or nephew. And if they weren't doing that, they were marrying the daughter of some foreign king in order to establish political alliances or gain a future throne. It didn't matter that the poor creature looked like the runner-up in an Orson Wells Look-Alike Contest, she brought with her potential power and huge tracts of land. And anyway, why would the king care if she was ugly? He had his little country dishes on the side.
The more I read, the more I began to understand why the human race is such a mess. You throw all these "Pious" "Fat" "Bald" "Blue-Tooth" "Simple" "Conquerors" into the genetic soup and eventually you're going to get some very confused traits.
It's like that song -- "Officer Krumpky" --from "West Side Story":
"My mother wears a mustache
"My father wears a dress
"Golly, Moses, that's why I'm a mess!"
But even with all this negative and disgusting information, I still felt special because I ws related to royalty. I was still unique. I had kings and queens (sometimes the same person) in my veins.
Unfortunately, I didn't put Durant's infernal book aside. With further reading I discovered -- because of the way people propagate -- there are over 200 million people related to William the Conqueror.
So, in the final analysis, I'm a Heinz 10 billion with perverts in my blood.
I think I'll just pull the plug and let the bath water out. It's a little muddy.
