Tanner Z. Landsight - Financial Silliness Gene

Back in 2005, which only seems a few years ago, I had an alter-ego. This is another way of saying that someone else lived in my brain for a time. Luckily, Tanner Z. Landsight was harmless and even mildly funny. 

He wrote quirky articles about life, politics, food, weather and other topics which were meant only to amuse. Sometimes he rambled and often went off on tangents that seemed to have nothing to do with the original topic.

While I am diligently working on finishing MERIMAR’S MIGHTY MUTATIONS, I thought I would offer some of Tanner’s work for you to peruse. I don’t think he will mind.

The Financial Silliness Gene

Here’s an idea to ponder: If everyone who claims to be descended from a passenger on the Mayflower really is – then that ship must have carried thousands of very prolific breeders.

My ancestors also came over on a ship – it was much easier than walking. Coincidentally, it was also named after a flower of sorts. It was called the Blander Thistle. I’m not making that up. My ancestors floated over on a dull weed.

It has always interested me how many genealogy enthusiasts try to trace their heritage back to some important historical figure. If your lineage includes royalty or a famous person, it means you are better than everyone else, I suppose. I usually tell people that my ancestors were just as successful as theirs.

Some stories are easier to believe than others. I have a cousin who can trace his line back to Benjamin Franklin and a friend who claims to be descended from Thomas Jefferson. Their surnames happen to be Franklin and Jefferson, so I’m not as skeptical as I might be if, say, they were Smith or Ratjakowicz.

For the record, I recently learned that I am related to the Mona Lisa on my father’s side and am a direct descendent of the half-sister of Joan of Arc’s cat on my mom’s side. OK – that might not be completely accurate; it’s a little hard to tell because the cat, which Joan called Satan’s sister – wasn’t exactly a one-mate sort of animal.

I have always enjoyed hearing stories about my ancestors – they usually show themselves to be much crazier than I am.

One such story proves beyond a doubt that there must be a ‘financial silliness’ gene that has deftly hidden itself somewhere in the DNA nebula and surfaced again inside of me. You see -- I’m not good with money.

First of all, it was never very important to me. I can think of dozens of things more important - Reese’s Cups for instance. My job history has more gaps than David Letterman’s teeth. I figure that when you have a lot of money, you end up wasting too much time worrying that you might lose it.

Back in the late 1700’s – just 300 years after Queen Isabella let Columbus bring thousands of people over on the Mayflower with orders to be fruitful and multiply and also to name several towns, countries and universities after himself – there lived a man named Samuel Gore.

Sam was an old man – he didn’t start out that way, it just sort of snuck up on him. As a veteran of the American Revolutionary War – that’s the one in which everyone wore wigs – Sam petitioned the newly formed Congress for a pension.

Sam had led an interesting life. I think that was mandatory back then.

I do know that Sam and most of his family were at the Wyoming Massacre in Pennsylvania. That was before Wyoming tucked its tail between its legs and scurried west.

Two of his brothers and three brothers-in-law were killed in the battle. It’s a really good thing that Sammy survived because he happened to be my great-great-great-great grandfather (give or take a few greats). I never met him, of course. Like most 200-year-old Revolutionary War veterans, he found the incessant taxation of the 20^th century to be too much so he decided to die.

It makes me wonder that – had he died at Wyoming – I would have been born into a whole different family – maybe even one that came over on the Mayflower. I would have had to get used to a whole different name, probably Ratjakowicz.

Well, I could write plenty about young and old Sam, but this really isn’t his story. It’s about his wife, Sarah. I’m glad that Sam married Sarah because she ended up being related to me too.

Congress – just as efficient then as it is now – granted a small sum of money to Sarah after Sam decided not to get any older.

Can you guess what Sarah did with that money?

She went and invested it all in IBM and Sony stock and today my whole family is sitting on more money than Fort Knox and currently negotiating the purchase of a nice little island called Hawaii. Ha Ha Ha.

Actually, she gave it back to the congress because she already had everything she needed to be comfortable in her old age and couldn’t think of a single reason she needed ‘all that money.’

Do you know what Congress did? Me neither… probably voted themselves a raise.

But I take comfort in knowing that I am not the only member of my family that has the ‘financial silliness’ gene. Sarah Brokaw Gore had it too. Makes me proud.

I think that she got it from the second cousin of the official wine-tester for Charlemagne’s pet monkey. On her father’s side.

Until next time,

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