Oh goodie, a new blog

Recently I have been digging into my genealogy.  I've been bitten by this bug a few times over the years and it's got a hold of me again.  And this time the game changer is THE INTERNET.  Gevalt!  Back in '97, the last time I poked around these questions, the main approach (after interviewing your oldest living family members) was to send inquiries off to random governmental offices around the country.  You included some key names and a personal check for an amount that seemed trifling if you succeeded and exorbitant if you struck out.  Then in some number of weeks they might send you faded copies of faded documents.  But I recently caught an episode of Who Do You Think You Are on TV.  Things have really changed.  There is a lot of instant gratification.  Type, click, SHAZAM!  You can practically Google your family history.

My uncle warned me that it can be addictive.  He has a friend who's been spending thousands traveling to Europe to chase after original documents or some such.  But there's a thrill when you reveal a new piece of the puzzle and it clicks into place.  A new door opens and you can see a few more down the hall.  So you just have to keep going.  ...Actually, maybe that's the definition of addiction so...good point, Uncle Michael.

In any case, my wife Jill, has played witness to a variety of passing fascinations of mine.  Back in Chicago, exorcising old high school demons, I retook calculus at a community college.  (Take that, Mr. Geller z"l!)  She wondered if my need truly extended to calc 2?  I picked up knitting and made a bunch of clothes for the baby while he was...in development.  He'll soon outgrow my biggest items and at this rate who can keep up?  Besides, my hands aren't free anymore.  How long will this genealogy trip last, she might be wondering.  And how much money will he want to spend on it?  (In our home we call this "The Husband Game."  People of any gender can play.  All you have to do is look at your partner with concern and ask, "What's that gonna cost me?")  So, a few days ago, reflecting on the (ahem)  intensity of this recent obsession, she pointedly asked, "So what are you going to... do with all this information you're gathering."

"Do with it?" I though.

"DO with it!?" I harrumphed.

"Is it not knowledge for it's own sake?!" (This line is best read aloud with full defensive self-righteousness.)

For years she's encouraged (nudged? pestered? harangued) me to write a play about my family.  I keep replying that I have great characters (you know who you are!) but no plot.  However, the process of doing genealogy provides a genre and narrative framework.  It's a time-traveling, detective story.  Tracking each of my illusive Great Great Great Whosimawhatsises back to Europe or wherever.  I don't feel ready for a play, but a blog...  that's a contemporary medium well-suited to my sub-clinical attention-deficient style.  And if blogs are already passe, then it's the perfect time for me to show up to the party.

Will anybody care?  

Jill and I have son, Eli.  Any minute now he'll be one year old.  Over this year, I have become aware that not everyone is as convulsed with giddy joy looking at his pictures as we are.  Expanding on that hard won self-awareness, I wonder if anyone will give a half a rat's tuchus about the deeper history of my family.  So I'll state here and now that ultimately I'm doing it for me.  And I suppose for Eli's legacy.  But if anyone else gets a vicarious thrill at my discoveries, or if they resonate with your own family's journeys, or if they make you curious to do your own digging, then...you're welcome.