My heritage is drastically split into distinct sections…Cavedad’s “idyllic worker” German side and Cavemom’s swishy/virtually unremarkable French-Canadian side.
- Since I’ve never met the entirety of my Father’s side of the family I can only go on his example that the German Cavemen are very tough, nose to the grindstone people which obviously does not reflect my free spirit.
- The Franco-Canadian Cavemen, to whom I’ve spent my entire life with, are completely (for lack of a better word) normal, which is out of standard with the idiosyncrasies of the Vintage Caveman.
I’m just a round peg with nothing but square hole when it comes to my family….Or so I thought until about a year ago when Cavemom told me the story of my Grandmother’s Uncle.
>My Great-Uncle (lets call him Barney) was the truly the black sheep of the Franc-Canucks Cavemen. He rejected the path the rest of his his family (which at the time was working in textile mills) and forged his own. Unfortunately, “Barney” got himself wrap into some illegal actives (Cavemom won’t tell me) and was sent to the brand-new, “unescapable” county jail the next city over.
“Barney” had no major issues with the whole “being sent jail” thing…it was the “unescapable” part that pissed him off. See, “Barney” had a very rebellious streak (which probably got him into jail in the first place), and no one could tell him he couldn’t do something..
Roughly a month after entry he escapes, and makes it into the Maine history books. Shortly after his unauthorized exit, he was discovered sitting on a park bench waiting to be picked up. A month later he escapes again, just to further “drive in his point”.<
It’s that rebellious, “fuck you” attitude that makes me feel like I wasn’t kidnapped by Gypsies and sold to my current family.