The Joy of Conversation

I have always been considered a quiet person.  When I was little I hardly spoke at all because I was "shy". Later on I was an "introvert".  Well, when I got into my late middle age and eventually found myself alone I discovered I needed conversation. Joanne was a talker more than I was and she would tell me all about her day and generally routine stuff...we talked a lot. When she died and Jill grew up and moved out I needed to hear a human voice other than my own. I'd turn on the TV just for background voices. Finally I figured out how to make friends again and soon I was a regular chatterbox.  One of the most enjoyable things about train travel on Amtrak is meeting people and having a nice and substantial conversation.


Fast forward to 2013...I've moved away from Missouri to New Mexico so I need to make new friends. My neighbors, Rod and Terry, are friendly and like to talk so we visit over the fence a lot. Rod helped my build my bocce court and is a handyman so we play bocce and collaborate on a few projects.


Not long after moving here I discovered Kaktus Brewing Company (that's Kak-toos...a German pronunciation) in the nearby heavily-Hispanic town of Bernalillo, NM. They were just opening in October but I managed to get in for the "soft" opening in late September. This is the first micro-brewery in Bernalillo so they are feeling their way a little. I was helping as much as I could...visiting once or twice a week.


So, chatty as I am, I am not shy about talking to other customers and I have met some of the most interesting people.  Bernalillo is located on the north end of the Albuquerque metro area...on the way to Santa Fe...and borders the Santa Ana pueblo reservation to the north and Sandia pueblo to the south and is just across the highway from Placitas. Placitas is sort of an upscale desert/mountain artsy community mixed with traditional Spanish land grant villagers who are descended from the original grantees. Bernalillo itself dates to about 1690 and folks from here moved south and settled Albuquerque. You might hear more Spanish spoken in Bernalillo than English and major streets and some business are signed in Spanish. Across the river (Rio Grande) is the north extreme of Rio Rancho, a modern and (sporadically) developing suburb of Albuquerque.  I'm describing all this just to give an indication of the diversity of people who walk through the door of Kaktus Brewing.


First off, there's Bjorn, from South Africa. Bjorn works in the film industry and makes the systems needed for producing special effects and some animation. Bjorn is responsible for Tony the Tiger and some of the Shrek movies as well as Spiderman movies. Then there's Dennis, a retired mechanical engineer from Santa Fe. Dennis lived and worked in Chicago and is responsible for designing the machine that wraps your stick of Wrigley's gum in foil and paper. Tom, a former special forces guy in Viet Nam, became a medical doctor and later prison doctor. We swap a lot of prison stories. Tom was raised in various places in South America and speaks Portuguese and Spanish. Tom owns hot air balloons.  Stew and Gloria are a nice and very friendly couple. Stew is a off-road race car driver...as in Baja road racing. Gloria seems to be enjoying the racing life but doesn't get too involved. If Stew starts talking about race cars or the technical aspect of racing you will be there for a while. The same is true if Stew and Tom start comparing Viet Nam stories. Evan stopped in while on a trip from Portland...he is a vintner at an Oregon winery. I learned all about the various types of grapes and where they will or won't grow. Roberta is a recently certified real estate lady...just got her license. Kyle, yes Kyle, is a Santa Domingo Pueblo Indian who always invites people to his house for BBQ and gives out directions but I haven't gone yet. There are others that I've met early on that I can't recall their name. One was a screen writer and film maker who does independent films. Another was a professor of screen writing at a local college. There are a few local farmers who come in and speak Spanish to each other but perfect English to other folks. I've enjoyed talking to these folks and I've learned a lot.


Dana, the owner is maybe 30 and he seems to enjoy it all. This is his first venture into the brewing business and he has some good help. There is no big screen TV hanging on the wall and no karaoke. There is a dart board, a bocce court and an outdoor patio with a wood stove for cool nights. Everything seems to be geared toward conversation.

My Day at the Museum

I've been wanting to go see a museum exhibit for the last month or so and kept putting it off. I am the king of procrastinators and end up doing things at the last minute. The exhibit was "Renaissance to Goya: Prints and Drawings from Spain" at the New Mexico Museum of Art in Santa Fe. It is a touring exhibit but Santa Fe is the only stop in the US and it is scheduled to leave in a few days.

I only live a half hour away from Santa Fe but it usually takes me another half hour to find what I'm looking for and a reasonable place to park. This discourages me from going to Santa Fe very often but there is a commuter train that offers a great alternative to driving and I should go by train -- it's a $5.00 round trip. I drove instead. The museum is located on the plaza next to the Palace of the Governor's so parking can be difficult. I was lucky and found a spot only three blocks away.

The exhibit includes works by about a dozen or more artists from about 1600 to about 1830. Most of the art work consists of drawings or prints, mostly in black chalk or some pen and ink. The drawings and prints are small, usually less than ten inches square. Subject matter is mostly religious events but there are some facial studies and some secular subjects. Goya's pieces include some of his warfare prints and some on bull fighting.

When I entered the exhibit gallery I was right behind a grade school class on a field trip. These looked like fourth or fifth graders. The class was being escorted by a museum staff person who was explaining the various pieces of art and trying to add a little context. The students were well behaved and quiet but I'm sure that most of them didn't grasp what the  museum guide was trying to explain. The pieces were so small that it was hard to make out the image unless you were fairly close.

There are lots of fairly obscure religious stories depicted in the collection. Saint Anthony of Padua was a busy man based on some of the drawings...lots of miracles. Other saints were being butchered. Heretics were being garroted or placed on trial during the inquisition. Baby Jesus was being circumcised. There were lots of angels, saints and demons. Goya's prints had folks being gored or trampled by bulls, lunatics on the loose and war heroes doing various heroic warlike things.

I suspect that there will be some interesting questions around the dinner table tonight in some of the students' homes.

Blache DuBois Has Nothin' On Me

Depending on the kindness of strangers isn't what it used to be. Dependency is not our thing. We pride ourselves on being self-sufficient and empowered. We carry smart phones and mini-laptops so we don't have to ask directions or feel like we are uninformed. We can Google or Wiki- whatever we need. We are kidding ourselves. We are now dependant on nameless folks (AKA strangers) creating apps for our phones or tablets. We are tied to our electronics and they are tied to the people working behind the curtain.

I had an experience today that took me back. My car battery died yesterday but I had places to be and a dinner engagement.  Luckily, I had a second car and was able to let my disabled vehicle sit in the garage until I could deal with it later.  This morning I hopped on the cell phone and called for roadside assistance to get my car started. The guy was there in twenty minutes and got my car started. I was supposed to drive it for a while to charge the battery so I set off on a tour of the area and drove for about twenty minutes before I noticed that I was almost out of gas. I figured my battery was charged enough and headed for a gas station. I stopped at an "express" gas station to fill up. It was one of those places with an attendant in a little glass house. Most people use plastic and never go talk to the attendant.  Well, of course, my car would not start when I was ready to leave.  Of course, I don't have jumper cables. I explained my situation to the attendant and he went into a small storage closet to see if there were any cables. Of course, he didn't have any.

I live in the desert southwest and our weather can change pretty fast. Today it was warm and windy. By the time I was getting my gas we were in a stiff sustained wind of 35 mph and gusting to 45.  Tumbleweeds were flying by and it was turning into a dust storm. 

Out of the blue, the gas attendant says "Here, take my car and go to WalMart and buy jumper cables". He hands me his car keys and points me toward his car. I was stunned. I couldn't believe that a total stranger would just hand me his car keys and trust me to go to WalMart and come back in his car....in a dust storm. I hesitated but took his keys and drove off to the local WalMart.  I could have driven to Denver or Chicago. The store wasn't too far away and I managed to get back in under a half hour. 

The attendant was busy when I got back and I handed his keys in through his window. He told me he was about to get off work as soon as his replacement arrived and he'd help me get the car started. As I was getting the jumper cables out of the package an elderly Indian lady driving a pick-up with grand kids in the cab drove up and offered to give me a jump from her truck.  I gladly took her up on her offer and got the car started once again. I was busy thanking people right and left and they seemed like this was an everyday occurrence...all in a day's work.   I was back at the local WalMart getting a new battery in about ten minutes.

The kindness of strangers is still alive and well in spite of our lack of attention and our false sense of empowerment and self-sufficiency. I'm still amazed that someone would hand over the car keys to a stranger and trust them to come back. I guess now it's my turn to help someone out.

The Perils of Genealogy -- Part Two

George W. Bush is my cousin...to my horror and shame. We are distantly related but I was always under the impression that he was, perhaps, some kind of space alien or something that climbed out of a tide pool somewhere. I'm not a Republican and I let my views and values shape my expectations as I groped my way through the underbrush of my family tree. That's the way most people are. George and I have a common ancestor and we are something like fifth cousins through his mother's line. We won't be going to a family reunion. There ought to be a Genealogists' Anonymous organization. "Hi, I'm Ken and I have George W. Bush as a cousin".



It is one of the pitfalls of genealogy and often it is the reason why folks start researching the family tree. We have expectations of grandeur.  Maybe we haven't found our niche in history but surely someone in the family accomplished something of note. It depends on how high you set the bar. Some people won't be satisfied until they get back to Charlemagne. But what happens if they encounter John Wilkes Booth or Ivan the Terrible? My grandmother's admonition to keep quiet about that "Pirate" Sir Francis Drake is one approach.



I am a member of the Sons of the American Revolution...past chapter president, in fact. The SAR and the DAR are sticklers for detail. One has to document every family link back to the Revolutionary patriot and it has to be a direct line. But, the definition of "patriot" is pretty loose. A man serving on a local jury or supplying arms or supplies or signing the articles of association would be sufficient for SAR membership. Not every patriot has to have war service. It is a common problem that folks try to join these organizations based on "grandma said..." or "my cousin is a member so I can be one too".  Some folks want to join to further their ambitions. We had a guy who wanted to be mayor and showed up at a meeting in a colonial era costume and declared that he was entitled to membership. We had a retired judge who showed up and announced that he was descended from a Revolutionary War soldier and refused to offer documentation. Both guys were disappointed.



I joined the SAR because I was tired of a co-worker yammering on about his patriotic roots. He had ancestors in the Revolution and an ancestor in the Confederate Army so he joined the SAR and Sons of Confederate Veterans. The Confederate flag in his office was a step too far and he had to get that out of the building. It turns out that I have several Revolutionary War soldiers as ancestors but only one that I was able to document with easy proof. The others were a little murky in their allegiance although they did serve in the Continental Army or militia at one point. One ancestor spent time in the Albany jail because he was suspected of being a Tory. Lots of folks were in there with him because this was, essentially, a civil war in New York state and everyone was suspected of being one thing or another. It's not always easy to document service or family ties...especially if the name is a common one from that era. One Revolutionary War soldier was sufficient for me.



My wife had ancestors who fought with the Confederacy. I hesitate to say they were Confederates because evidence shows that they were neutral but extremely pissed off when the Yankees showed up and burned the town.  Her G-G-G-Grandfather served in the Missouri State Legislature....elected in 1860...and the family was prominent in the local political and cultural life of their small Ozark community. They were not slave-owners and just wanted to be left alone. The State Legislature had to consider what to do as the various states started to withdraw from the Union. It was a difficult issue because Missouri was a slave state but was very much divided in its loyalties. The German settlers were against slavery while the long-time landowners were often supportive of slavery. One of the slave industries in sections of Missouri was breeding slaves to be "sold down the river"...this was a form of stock farming.  This is a particularly ugly aspect of slavery in Missouri and not talked about much.  The Legislature and the Governor were forced to raise the State Guard (militia) to fight the Union Army as it moved to occupy the state.  The Union prevailed and dismissed the Legislature and the Governor fled south. The resulting Civil War in Missouri was extremely bloody and resonates even today.

I was always smug in my outlook toward the Civil War and slavery. We were Union people from New York state. My G-G-Grandfather marched off to fight the Rebs and defeat the forces of slavery. We were not slave owners...right?...right?  It's all very complicated once you get into the closet with your ancestors.  My soldier ancestor marched to defend the rail lines in Baltimore. He finally got to Virginia and saw some action during the Wilderness Campaign but hurt himself...got a hernia...and was sent to a hospital to recover. That was pretty much it. His unit, the 109th NY, saw a lot of serious action and was involved in the notorious Crater assault at Petersburg but my ancestor was recuperating. I am not complaining...it is just ironic. Had he not hurt himself in the service of his country, I might not be here.



The slavery thing is even more complicated. A funny thing happened while I was busy gloating about not being from a family of slave-owners. One of my New York ancestors was a party in a law suit against a man who owed him money. This was early in New York history, before slavery was abolished there.  The court case dragged on a while and finally the plaintiffs won. They were to be repaid for the debt but the man had nothing to pay them with...except slaves. My ancestor was given a women as repayment of the debt. There was some kind of stipulation that the original owner had the right to buy her back if he could raise enough money but we don't know what the outcome was. So much for being smug. I have ancestors who were among the founders of New Paltz, NY, way back in the late 1600s. Guess what...New Paltz was one of the areas where Sojourner Truth lived as a slave....and finally gained her freedom.

Lets go back to Charlemagne. Americans seem to be infatuated with the idea that somehow they are related to royalty. That's ironic because many or most of the early immigrants were coming to America because they had had enough of royalty. Of course, European royalty couldn't get enough of each other. Royalty bred royalty who then bred with other royalty and their cousins who bred with cousins...and so on.  Heaven forbid that they marry a commoner because they had this notion of eliteness. They were somehow chosen to be elite by God. These folks also had power and wealth. They had bunches of kids and could feed them all. They could afford good food. They could get medical attention, such as it was. They lived in well-built homes. During the plague, they could stay isolated or they could leave the city to escape disease. So, they were survivors and survivors had babies who were survivors. The commoners and the riff-raff marched off to war, suffered from malnutrition or were consumed by the plague. It is reasonable and likely that many Americans and Europeans are descended from royalty. If you go back far enough to tie into a royal line and trace along those royal lines you will probably end up at Charlemagne. President Obama is descended from Edward I, King of England, who was, of course, a Plantagenet and French and descended from Charlemagne. So is Brad Pitt and Brooke Shields and George W. Bush...all descended from William the Conqueror who was a descendant of Charlemagne.  Barack Obama and Queen Elizabeth II are distant cousins.  Being related to Charlemagne really has less of a distinction than people think. The ability to trace one's ancestry back to 800 AD is impressive but it is fairly easy if you tie into a royal line.



My line staggers back through multiple generations and eventually links in to the parents of the 1st Duke of Marlborough. He was also an ancestor of Princess Diana Spencer and Winston Churchill and William, the future King, and now, baby George, also a future King. I was happy to welcome the little tyke into the family, although he makes it harder for me to rise to my rightful place as King.

Another family line takes a tour of Holland through the New York Dutch families and goes back to Charlemagne and Alfred the Great, somehow. One of the Dutch ancestors sailed with Henry Hudson up the Hudson River as far as present day Albany. His cousins, Jan and Cornelius DeWitt, were butchered by a mob and hung on a lamp post at The Hague. They were then immortalized, sort of, in The Black Tulip, by Alexander Dumas. If you climb back down that family line you will run into Theodore Roosevelt and Eleanor Roosevelt...but not Franklin.


A lot of genealogy buffs are having their DNA recorded and analyzed. The tea leaves of DNA reveal all sorts of things. I keep saying I'm going to have mine checked but I never do. I might be surprised if I do. Many people are. Lots of Americans think they have American Indian ancestry but often the test comes back and they are disappointed. Sometimes there are interesting results that show Semitic or Asian ancestry when there is none even remotely expected. Sub-Saharan African DNA might show up where it isn't expected. African American genealogy buffs can sometimes find what area of Africa they are connected to as well as whether there is a trace of non-African ancestry -- European or American Indian or whatever.

People moved around a lot more than we ever expected. The map (right) shows the travels of just two men back in the 1300s. We know about them because they were literate and left a written record. A DNA study among Indians in South America found two pockets of modern indigenous populations that have Asian (ancient Japanese) DNA traces that date from several thousand years ago. Clearly,  ancient people in Ecuador encountered ancient people from Japan sometime around 3,000 BC. There are plenty of historic references of Chinese, Egyptian or Greek voyagers. The Phoenicians seemed to be almost everywhere in the ancient Mediterranean world. Alexander the Great ruled an empire that stretched to India. Arab merchants visited Scandinavia. Marco Polo and many others followed the Silk Road through central Asia.

Moorish Spain

Even before Charlemagne the Islamic Moorish Caliphs occupied most of Spain and Portugal and made incursions well into France. The Moorish controlled terretory, Al-Andalus, lasted for over 700 years in some areas. Marco Polo was in China more than 20 years. I doubt that all of these travelers and conquerers kept their pants on for the duration of their journey.


My dad's family came from Pomerania (Pommern), which is now the Baltic Sea coast of Poland. Before WW-II it was Germany. It was once ruled by Sweden. The Teutonic Knights were in control of the place for a while as were the Poles and Prussians. That is just over the past 500 years...what about way back another 500 or 1,000 years. Vikings and "Barbarians" and waves of other different groups passed through central Europe. After...and even before...the Roman destruction of Jerusalem there were Jewish populations sprinkled all over the known world. Some were isolated, as in Ethiopia, while others were vibrant and totally engaged with their neighbors, as in Spain and parts of Europe and north Africa. I think I know, roughly, what my DNA test will report but I might be surprised. Whatever it says, I'll be happy. I might even discover some long lost relatives somewhere.