I Am Addicted To Genealogy Ribbon I Am Addicted To Genealogy!

When you are in a different city do you look through the phone book to find people that have the same surname as one of your ancestors?

Do you get excited when you drive by a Cemetery?

Do you talk about your deceased ancestors as though they were still a live?

Does your librarian or the person that works at the archives know your whole life story?

Do you check the obituaries everyday?

Does your spouse call the library to see when you are coming home?

Do you spend your vacation tracking down ancestors in county courthouses?

Do you keep pictures of tombstones or long deceased ancestors in your wallet?

Can you remember the date an ancestor died but you can't remember to feed the pets?

Instead of an emergency kit in your car you have a research kit?

Does your boss call the library or archives to see when you will be coming back from your lunch break?


You Know You're Taking Genealogy Too Seriously If . . . In order to put the 'final touches" on your genealogical research, you've asked all of your closest relatives to provide DNA samples.

You are the only person to show up at the cemetery research party with a shovel.

You were instrumental in having "non-genealogical use of the genealogy room copy machine" classified as a federal hate crime.

Your house leans slightly toward the side where your genealogical records are stored.

You decided to take a two-week break from genealogy, and the U. S. postal Office immediately laid off 1,500 employees.

Out of respect for your best friend's unquestioned reputation for honesty and integrity, you are willing to turn off that noisy surveillance camera while she reviews your 57 genealogical research notebooks in your home. The armed security guard, however, will remain.

You plod merrily along "refining" your recently published family history, blissfully unaware that the number of errata pages now far exceeds the number of pages in your original publication.

During an ice storm and power outage, you ignore the pleas of your shivering spouse and place your last quilt around that 1886 photograph of dear Uncle George.

The most recent document in your "missing Ancestors" file is a 36-page contract between you and Johnson Billboard Advertising Company.

Ed McMahon, several TV cameras and an envelope from Publishers Clearing House arrive at your front door on Super Bowl Sunday, and the first thing you say is, "Are you related to the McMahons of Ohio?"

"A Loving Family" and "Financial Security" have moved up to second and third, respectively, on your list of life's goals, but still lag far behind "Owning My Own Microfilm Reader."

A magical genie appears and agrees to grand your any one wish, and you ask that the 1890 Census be restored.


The Elusive Ancestor

I went searching for an ancestor, I cannot find him still.
He moved around from place to place and did not leave a will.
He married where a courthouse burned, he mended all his fences.
He avoided any man who came to take the U.S. Census.

He always kept his luggage packed, this man who had no fame,
And every 20 years or so, this rascal changed his name.
His parents came from Europe. They should be on some list
of passengers to the U.S.A., but somehow they got missed.
And no one else in this world is searching for this man.
So, I play geneasolitaire to find him if I can.
I'm told he's buried in a plot, with tombstone he was blessed;
but the weather took engraving, and some vandals took the rest.

He died before the county clerks decided to keep records.
No family Bible has emerged, in spite of all my efforts.
To top it off, this ancestor who caused me many groans,
Just to give me one more pain, betrothed a girl named JONES!

Unknow Author

More Definitions of a Genealogy Addict:

Your kids think picnics in cemeteries are normal or that EVERYBODY does it.

You're the only person in the bridge/poker club who knows what a Soundex is.

"It is only a few miles down the road" means at least 50.

Some of your best friends live over 200 miles away.

You have more pictures of tombstones than of the kids.

"I need to spend just a little more time at the courthouse" means forget the cleaning, washing, dinner, chores; the day is shot.

The mailman can't believe that you got this much mail from someone you don't even know.

You explain to mother why you can't go 25 miles for Sunday dinner, but can go 100 miles to check out another cemetery.

"As soon as I check out this census record, I'll fix dinner" means "call the local pizza parlor."

Your neighbors think you are crazy, your friends wonder, and YOU know you are.

You can't drive past a cemetery without wondering if your ancestors are buried there.

You have to watch the credits of a movie to see if any of the surnames are ones you are researching.

You ask all the people you meet, what their grandparents surnames are.

You move to a new town and the first thing you look for is a historical or genealogical society in the area.

You go on vacation and beg your hubby to please drive 80 miles out of the way so that you can try and find your granddaddy's grave in 100 degree heat.

Youthful fantasies of traveling to exotic places are replaced with plans to get to those little towns with graveyards, or larger towns with Archives!

Your fear of snakes and bugs is overshadowed by the need to get through those brambles to that old gravestone.

Old friends who knew you before you were into genealogy begin sending clippings about dead or live people with your surnames (and you know you have been talking about genealogy too much!)

You worry about the roof's leaking only if the drips threaten your genealogy section.

When you can recite all the counties of a State you've researched but where you've never lived.

When you find your ancestor's execution by hanging or burning at the stake, far more interesting than the mass-murder that just took place next door.

You're not invited to family functions because your relatives are tired of filling out family group sheets.

When you read the New Testament in Sunday School and find yourself comparing the pedigrees in Matthew and Luke.

The Twelve Steps for Recovering Genealogists

1. I admit that I am powerless over my gedcom and that my life has become unmanageable.

2. I believe that there is a greater power other than genealogy and that it will restore sanity to my life.

3. I have made a decision to turn my life over to non genealogists and hope that they will understand me.

4. I have admitted to myself and other genealogists that I am addicted to my obituary files.

5. I vow to no longer discuss "dead people" with my few remaining friends in hopes that they will remain my friends.

6. I promise to take photographs of things other than tombstones.

7. My only source of reading material will no longer be census, wills, death certificates and obituaries.

8. I will not spend family vacations in out-of-state libraries and courthouses.

9. Family picnics will no longer be held in cemeteries.

10. My family will no longer be referred to as "the live ones."

11. My time spent on the Internet will be limited to sites other than Rootsweb.com, Ancestry.com and MyGenealogy. com.

12. I will carry these messages to other genealogists and practice these principles every day.




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