I'm no geneticist so I know little about the science of genes. I know it's nothing to do with Wranglers, Levis, skinny or flared but more to do with why I am a dark Devonian stumpwort rather than a fair Amazonian maiden.
I have come to terms with the fact that I'm never going to share the catwalk with Georgia May Jagger or Kate Moss, but then, they probably can't type at a 100 words a minute while whistling You're The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly like I can. Each to his own.
It seems genes are far-reaching and there is a genetic memory you inherit from your ancestors. So if you are always playing the fool and making excruciating jokes you may have inherited the talent from a forebear who was a funeral clown in ancient Rome. It was his job to dress up like the deceased, wear a clay mask and dance around making awful jokes. This explains a lot about certain members of my family…
It's handy to have the excuse "it's in my genes" for all my shortcomings. I eat too much? Don't blame me for having no willpower, great-great-grandmother spent all day shovelling mutton roasted in dripping and sweet lemon posset down her gob. It's her fault.
I'm a bit of a moaner? Not my fault. Great-great-great-great- grandfather spent his days belly-aching that the apothecary had failed to cure his pustules with the application of leeches and complaining that Pitt the Younger had put another farthing tax on his ‘baccy.
Ah, if only. But unfortunately we all have to take responsibility for our own actions. We all know people who blame something or someone else for all the ills of their life. It's their parents' fault, their teachers or the fact that Jupiter was out of alignment with Mars on the day they were born.
Although it is may be true that there is some inherited memory, take a leaf out of George Bernard Shaw’s book. He said: "People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don’t believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can’t find them, make them."
For those of you who might not have believed there really is a song called You're The Reason Our Kids Are Ugly, here it is:
Before you leave:
You can follow me on: Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Pinterest. As you can see, I have far too much to say for myself.
- Please feel free to leave a comment. I love to hear from you and will reply and visit your blog, if you have one, if I can.
- You really don't want to miss my next post. It could be my best one ever (or not... who knows)! Enter your email address below and FeedBurner will tell you every time there's an update.