Lightning and Antecedents

If you believe in heritage and genetics like the Daughters of American Revolution or The Mayflower Society, well, you need to get a life. Really. Be serious. Do you think that because your great-great-etc. was a magnificent queen or a successful battlefield general or great white European philosopher, you're automatically worthy enough to be spoken of in the same sentence? If it were true, then why ain't you any of those things today? (And if you actually are, then why are you reading this blog?)

I bring this up because like many Americans, I am the descendant of fairly decent European stock. There's a castle or two somewhere with the family name, not to mention a barony. If you believe the family stories on my father's side of the gene pool, I'll be getting a call from Edinburgh when Scotland regains its own monarchy. It's all crap, of course. Stories about antecedents are like fishing stories: they grow with time and they start to stink after a while. Folks tend to forget they're also related to the village whore and town septic tank scraper.

So am I going anywhere with this? Nope. Just reminding y'all to thine own self be true, first and foremost. (Not every one of these rants is a gem, boys and girls. I really just want an excuse to show the cute puppy pictures.)

Tried to bike home, but there was an itsy-bitsy lightning, thunder, and downpour thing going on. In Arizona, they call it a gully washer. Got a mile, maybe 1.5 miles in, before I wimped out and called for a ride. Ten minutes after I called, the lightning part had moved on and it was just raining. I'll know better next time. [Edit: It's a mile. I measured it the next day.]

Speaking of antecedents: for most of human history, folks generally lived and died within 30 miles of where they were born. The Industrial Age brought better transportation and roads, and the Nuclear Family migration of the 1950s from rural to urban centers pretty much wiped out that old tradition. Even so, I met someone the other day who was born in Carson City, raised in Dayton, attended UNR, and now lives in Dayton. All of that is within the 30-mile circle of Carson City. She is by far the exception to the current rule of American transplantation. Nevada has the highest number of non-natives within its borders (the state with the most naive born: Pennsylvania).

For myself, here are the states that I know I've lived in, chronologically by the first time I lived there:

Texas
Alaska
New Hampshire
Nevada
Virginia
Arizona
California
Mississippi
Nebraska

And throw a year in Canada and three years in Japan in there, just for fun.

Are those the cutest puppies?