An Ominous Affliction | Gene-A-Holic | Quarantined | Christmas Eve
An Ominous Affliction
When I first laid eyes on her it was manifest to me
That the poor soul was suffering from CIG.
A dread disease with a poor prognosis
Unresponsible to the pill and unaffected by the poltice.
For her eyes were gaunt and her tongue was green
Her face was haggard and her countenance lean.
She stammered and staggered and coughed and wheezed,
Choked and gasped and trembled and sneezed.
Then she shuddered when I uttered her diagnosis
Of CHRONIC and INCURABLE GENEALOGOSIS.
Chronic and Incurable Genealogosis
Is a virulent strain of ancestrosis
Organisms from the marrow of ancestral bones
Are carried by the chromospores on ancient gravestones.
And the many minute creatures from the crevices and nooks
Of moldy old wills and dusty deed books.
So beware those of you who have recently been pleased
To shinny up the trunks of you family trees,
For many genealogists who share the same conviction,
Are found among the victims of this ominous affliction.
Here are the top 10 indicators that you've become a Gene-A-Holic:
10. You introduce your daughter as your descendant.
9. You've never met any of the people you send e-mail to, even though you're related.
8. You can recite your lineage back eight generations, but you can't remember your nephew's name.
7. You have more photographs of dead people than living ones.
6. You've taken a tape recorder and/or notebook to a family reunion.
5. You've not only read the latest GEDCOM standard, but also understand it.
4. The local genealogy society borrows books from you.
3. The only film you've seen in the last year was the 1880 census index.
2. More than half your CD collection is made up of marriage records or pedigrees.
1. Your elusive ancestor has been spotted in more places that Elvis!
QUARANTINED!
The inhabitants of this place have been stricken with GENEALOGY FEVER, a deadly and infectious disease.
SYMPTOMS : Inability to concentrate on the job. Copies of old census lists and notepapers crammed into pockets and files. A fanatical compulsion to look in phone books everywhere one goes. A cold sweat at the sight of old graveyards. Violet tremors at beholding old pictures and trunks filled with letters. Excess speed headed toward the library copier with a book mentioning an ancestor. Bloodshot eyes from too much microfilm exposure. Erratic speech puntuated with giggles, followed with mumbling about Kings and Princessess. Heart palpitations while awaiting the daily mail. Euphoria when hearing from a distant cousin prodiving a new surname in the family tree.
WARNING : Incurable.
A Genealogist's Christmas Eve
'Twas the night before christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even my spouse;
The dining room table with clutter was spread
With pedigree charts and with letters which said,
"Too bad about the data for which you wrote.
It sank in a storm on an ill-fated boat!"
Stacks of old copies of wills and such
were proof that my work had become too much
Our children were nestled, all snug in their beds
While visions of sugarplums danced in their heads;
And I at my table was ready to drop
From work on my album, with pictures to crop.
Christmas was here, and of such was my lot,
That presents and goodies and toys I'd forgot!
Had I not been so busy with grandparents wills,
I'd not have forgotten to shop for such thrills.
While others had bought gifts that would bring Christmas Cheer,
I'd spent time researching those birth dates and years.
While I was thus musing about my sad plight,
A strange noise on the lawn gave me such a fright!
Away to the window I flew in a flash,
Tore open the drapes and yanked at the sash,
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an overstuffed sleigh and eight small reindeer.
Up to the housetop, the reindeer they flew,
With a sleigh full of toys and Old Santa, too.
And then in a twinkle, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of thirty-two hoofs.
The TV antenna was no match for their horns,
And I look at our roof, with hoofprints adorned.
As I drew in my head, and bumped it on the sash,
Down the cold chimney fell Santa --KER-RASH!
Dear Santa had come from the roof in a wreck
And tracked soot on the carpet (I could wring his short neck!)
Spotting my face, good old Santa could see
I had no Christmas spirit, you'd have to agree
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings (I felt like a jerk!)
Here was Santa, who'd brought such gladness and joy,
When I'd been to busy for even one toy.
He spied my research on the table all spread;
"A Genealogist!", he cried. (Did my face turn red!)
"Tonight I've met many like you," Santa grinned.
As he pulled from his sack a large book he'd penned;
I gazed with amazement - the cover it read:
GENEALOGY LINES FOR WHICH YOU HAVE PLED
"I know what it's like, as a genealogy bug." he said as he gave me a great Santa hug.
"While the elves make the sleighful of toys I now carry,
I do some research in the North Pole Library.
A special treat I am thus able to bring
To genealogy folks who can't find a thing.
Now off you go to your bed for rest;
I'll clean up the house from this genealogy mess."
As I climbed up the stairs, full of gladness and glee,
I looked back at Santa who'd brought much to me;
While settling in bed, I head Santa's clear whistle
To his team, which then rose like the down of a thistle
And I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight
"Family history is fun! Merry Christmas and Good Night!"
Happy Holidays!!
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