Journal Entry: 4/21/18
This DNA thing
I just finished reading this study on DNA and dreams. Seems there is a theory floating around that many of our dreams may be dreams from our ancestors. Passed on to us through our DNA. It makes sense to me on some level. For example, they say my great grandfather, a full blooded Cherokee, had crazy spells from time to time. Perfectly fine most of the time, but on occasions would wake during the night, stand on the bed, and pretend to drive a team of horses. Would stay at it for some time, I am told.
Now I have never had that experience but I do have my crazy spells from time to time. It is of great comfort to know it’s not me, but maybe my crazy ole grandfather. Just in my DNA. I can’t help it.
When I was growing up, there was this family in my small town that lived back in the woods. Bob and Bernice had a gaggle of kids. I’m not sure how many there were. I remember two quiet well. One was called Opossum. When Opossum was small he had a habit of pulling out his eyebrows and eyelashes. He pulled out so many that they never regrew. Slick as a Opossum’s eyebrows, so Opossum he will be know. His brother was named Eugene. A cross eyed boy. I didn’t know until I was almost grown that Eugene fell out of the car his mother was driving and she ran over him, crossing his eyes, fixed to this day.
Fast forward a few years...Bernice’s grandson was arrested trying to rob the local bank. The funny thing about the bank caper, he tried to get in before the bank opened. There were a lot of odd things about that day, but would you believe, that on that same morning Bernice ventured into her backyard to collect fresh eggs and she was attacked and spurred by her old red rooster that took numerous stitches. The day was so bad for Bernice and her family that the whole town had a saying when having a really bad day, I mean really bad, they just said, “I’m having a Bernice kinda day.” Everyone knew exactly what they meant.
Everyone in our little town felt sorry for Bob and Bernice, so what do people do who have little to give to others, who have nothing? You give them everything you no longer have need for. Especially clothes that you outgrow, leftover produce from your garden. Just bag them up and take them all to Bernice. Poor ole soul, she can make use of it all.
I remember my last trip to the door of Bernice’s home with my goodwill sack. I happened to peek inside the door and to my surprise, her front room was stacked with unopened goodwill bags. As I walked back home, I realized the gesture of kindness was only to make us feel good. Bernice had plenty of clothes for her family. I wondered how she must have felt, knowing the whole town was feeling sorry for her?
Well, I say all of this to shed some light on this DNA thing. To this day, I just can’t get rid of things that I no longer have need for. It’s in my DNA. Scripted there like the Bill of Rights. Straight from the DNA of my grandparents, down through my parents, into me.
So to my friends that wake up and find bags of clothes on your front porch, I am not feeling sorry for you, even though many of you are sorry rascal’s, it is just in my DNA. So take the damn bag of clothes. Keep any you like and pass the others own to make you feel good. Who knows, one day it may end up in your DNA.
Partly truth, partly fiction...just like life.
Not half that bad on a good day...Doc
