|
10-14-2002 Or at least that’s how I think the poem goes. And he probably actually spoke Spanish or Italian or one of them other languages that we can’t teach in schools around here. But I’m sure the sentiment was essentially the same. And if you were listening carefully to the protestors at the Columbus Day parade, you also learned that as soon as Columbus set foot on land, he immediately set about killing, torturing, and generally oppressing the natives. And from what I gather, he’s still at it today, the bastard. Still, is this a great country, or what? I mean, seriously, where else could you watch two groups of different ethnic makeup argue with each other in such a civilized fashion over a poorly documented event from over 500 years ago? And with beer and pizza and funny hats and balloons and fluffy flowered floats and marching bands? You gotta love it. Unfortunately, my ancestry contains no Italians, Spaniards, Columbians, or Native Americans. Well, actually, I’m not too clear about that, since I’m not really sure what my family tree looks like. I went through a genealogy phase a few years ago, but I quit when somebody spelled “genealogy” for me -- and I discovered that it wasn’t the study of Major Anthony Nelson’s perky embottled wife. My paternal grandmother’s side of the family has been documented all the way back to England in the 1400s, where they were apparently involved in providing rabbits for the thriving hassenpfeffer industry. But that branch of the family was always considered to be the cranky and boring set of relatives, so I don’t really want to claim them as my “roots”. The “Heggy” side of the family is the one I’d like to trace back, but there are no records of them whatsoever until they mysteriously showed up on a farm in Kansas in the mid 1800s. My theory is that my great-great grandfather was one of those guys like Gary Sevin who beamed in from the caverns of Talos IV to keep the Confederacy from developing nuclear weapons. During the mission he fell in love with Teri Garr’s great-great grandmother and decided to settle down and raise a few pigs and cows. (Obviously, the mission was a success, since Robert E. Lee never did irradiate Pittsburgh or anything. Speaking for my ol’ gran’pappy, I shall say “You’re welcome”.) Another popular Heggy family theory is that my ancestors were all horse thieves who had a bounty on their heads in all the decent states, so they hid out in Kansas and worked a farm until the heat was off. I personally feel that farming is one of the noblest professions, but my family’s horticultural efforts over the years make Oliver Wendell Douglas look like the Genesis Device. (Side note: What if Alvy Moore had played Khan? “From Hell’s heart, I spit at thee. Well, not actually spit. I’m kinda drooling. And I guess it isn’t really Hell’s heart, since we’re in outer space…”) I’ll probably never know for sure exactly where our family name came from. I once received a letter from a “research” company who suggested that the name probably came from Scotland. Their theory was that the original Heggys were probably manufacturers of Haggis, which is a delightful treat made from entrails, spices, and insect parts – all boiled lovingly for hours inside a sheep’s stomach. For only $35, the company said, they’d find out for sure, and also send me a color 8 x 10 glossy photo of our official family Coat of Arms. I have a coat already, thanks. And I’m not really sure I’d want a photo of anything that Haggis-makers might come up with. Today, there just aren’t that many Heggys around. I did an Internet search once and found the name mentioned prominently in hundreds of court documents. I assumed that this confirmed the horse thief theory; but it turns out that one of the Heggys is a prominent trial attorney in Oklahoma. All right. Another Heggy I found describes himself as a “political and socio-economic thinker, petroleum strategist, and lecturer”. In other words, he’s probably never held a real job in his life. And he’s from Egypt, which sorta messes up that whole Scottish, sheep innards theory. Let us move on to a brighter outlook on the family name. The best Heggy in the world is …(What’s that, Honey? Oh, yeah, of course.) Uh, the best Heggy in the world, other than my lovely and wonderful wife, is Ben Heggy of Ben Heggy’s Candy Company. Anyone who makes chocolate is a true friend of humanity, and these guys make very good chocolate. Take that, Haggis boy. I’m starting to lean more toward the “friend of Gary Sevin” theory. Anyway, when Columbus Day turns into a battle of Italian Heritage vs. Native American heritage, I’m not sure which side I’m on. I’m pretty sure that if all the Europeans had left this continent alone, the indigenous cultures would still be living in harmony with the land and the bison would continue to roam freely across the fruited plains. (Side note: I grew up in Kansas, which is definitely the plains. But I never saw any fruit there. Lots of grains, grasses, livestock, and wind, but no fruit. Did the bison eat it all?) Bison aside, I’ll admit that part of me is a pretty big fan of the European influences. I thought the industrial revolution and the subsequent medical and technological revolutions, (and even the Beatles’ Revolution) were really good things. So from that angle, I’m glad that Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Both Italian and Native American cultures have much to be proud of in their past. But I have a hard time relating to the passion these folks have about their roots. None of us lived 500 years ago. The planet has changed in many ways that even Columbus had nothing to do with. For me, personally, there are a few anemic and shallow roots in Kansas farm country – but I moved to Denver because I didn’t want to live in Kansas farm country any more. In any case, the only culture I’ve ever known (or had “handed down to me”) is the culture of the good ol’ (but relatively young) US of A. I’m damn proud of it, but if someone wants to celebrate Italian, Native American, Polish, Watusi, or Easter Island culture – more power to ‘em. Just don’t forget that we’re all Americans here. And Columbus has been dead a long, long time. Appendix (the actual poem): In fourteen hundred ninety-two Columbus sailed the ocean blue. He had three ships and left from Spain: He sailed through sunshine, wind and rain. He sailed by night; He sailed by day; He used the stars to find his way. A compass also helped him know How to find the way to go. Ninety sailors were on board; Some men worked while others snored. Then the workers went to sleep; And others watched the ocean deep. Day after day they looked for land; They dreamed of trees and rocks and sand. October 12 their dream came true. You never saw a happier crew! Indians! Indians! Columbus cried; His heart was filled with joyful pride. But "India" the land was not; It was the Bahamas, and it was hot. The Arawak natives were very nice; They gave the sailors food and spice. Columbus sailed on to find some gold To bring back home, as he'd been told. He made the trip again and again, Trading for gold to bring to Spain. The first American? No, not quite. But Columbus was brave and he was bright. We cheer for him and say hooray, Especially on Columbus Day!
|