Are You Obsessed with Genealogy?
Here are some sure signs you've become obsessed with genealogy:
You name your firstborn Gedcom.
You introduce your cousin as "my collateral."
You watch The Immigrants every time the classic movie channel runs it.
The word "schooner" evokes images of passenger lists in flowery handwriting.
You have recurring nightmares about fire — the one that destroyed the 1890 Federal Census.
You treat your whole family to a vacation in beautiful Utah: ten glorious, fun-filled days at the LDS Library in Salt Lake City.
The stack of leisure reading on your nightstand consists of tax rolls and baptismal records.
You try to declare your deceased great-grandparents as dependents on your income tax form.
Your favorite genealogical society has obtained a TRO against you.
Thanks to your generosity, medical science has four new ailments to study: microfilm elbow, vault neck,
cemetery knee and census squint.
Your house is so dilapidated from document storage lean that Extreme Home Makeover has agreed to build you a
new one ...
... And when Ty Pennington shows up, you blurt out, "Are you descended from the Penningtons of Massachusetts?!"
While others live from paycheck to paycheck, you live from goody packet to goody packet.
Ray Milland's got nothing on you: every weekend at your house is The Lost Weekend.
Your take your laptop to your own wedding, so you won't have to wait to get home to fill in the marriage fields.
In your wallet are snapshots of your ancestors' tombstones. You show them proudly to your relatives,
your friends, your pharmacist, the lady at the cosmetics counter, the dog catcher ...
Your photocopying bill at the courthouse now exceeds your mortgage.
You scrutinize the "surname list" that follows Masterpiece Theatre for possible British relations.
Someone says "Go climb a tree!" and you wonder, Standard ancestral or descendant outline?
© Sue Annabrooke Jones
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