Things I don't know

I still don't know what tomato gravy is. My assumption is that it is some sort of stewed tomatoes. Do you put it over potatoes? Rice? Noodles? Biscutis? All I know is that my cousin keeps threatening to come here and force feed it to me. I can vomit on command with the words "tomato" and "gravy" in the same sentence.

I don't know why people are mean to each other.

I don't know why that woman on the Smucker's jar stopped smoking at 97-years old and now we're saluting her 106th birthday. Meanwhile, we're mourning a 2-year old victim of abuse or neglect.

I don't know why some 45-year old women are starting their families and others are raising their grandchildren.

I don't know why our ears, noses and feet are the parts of our bodies that continue to grow as we age. I would pick some different parts.

Roots

Lots of people are tracing their roots. The Internet has opened a new world of information and made it accessible in a way that was never available before. I have no desire to trace my roots. I have the family albums. I know the family stories. My wildly imaginative mind can fill in the rest.

Big Daddy's family lives forever. Longevity is on their side. We will all see Willard Scott salute them on a Smucker's jar.

Are you cracking up that Lynne Cheney was doing research for a book and discovered that her husband, our Republican vice president, is an eighth cousin of Democratic presidential candidate, Barack Obama? Well, I am. Instead of making some long and lofty speech, the Obama spokesman released this statement: "Every family has a black sheep." Funny and classy.

I care about roots. Mine have grown out about an inch. I'm sparkling like a Christmas tree. So, you go track your family history. I'm going to go get my roots touched up.