Now, who would be interested in reading about my family history, except my kids? And why? Oh, well... here it is.
In the beginning...
My paternal great-great grandfather brought his two sons over from Scotland, back in the mid 1800's, from a small village on the eastern side of the country. The villlage was Stonehaven, which is now a small city with a beautiful bay on the English Channel. Seems he was brought before the town council who said to him, "Old Wilson, we be goin' to hang ye."
"And why is that?" Asked my great-great grandfather.
"Because you've been stealin' sheep, and none of us like it!" They wagged a few fingers at him, and said, "That's why, and it's final."
"I'll save you the expense of a good rope, if you let me go down to Edenburgh and take the first steamer to America!"
"Nope... We think we'd rather hang ye, and we'd hang those rascally sons of yours, too, if we had the proof they helped ye."
"Hmmm... and what if I take me two sons with me? Is that a better deal?"
It took almost no time at all to realize that getting rid of three sheep-stealing Wilsons, plus saving the cost of a hanging, was worth it, so here I am today.
I was born in Pomona, California, on March 3rd, 1958, and now that's a long time ago. I was the second of four, born to Roy Wilson and Peggy Donahue. My older brother was born Terry Daniel, but for many years he has preferred the name Erik, and I think he even changed it legally. He and his wife, Sally, live in downtown San Francisco, at the corner of Post and Polk. Jill is my younger sister, and she lives in Southern California. The last one is my little brother, Kevin-Oskar-Andrew-gawd-knows-how-many-names-he-has-had. The whole family thinks he's a sociopath. He once was taken in by some friends because he didn't have a place to sleep, and after a few weeks, the couple told him they had to go east because of a family problem, and asked him to take care of the place. When they came home, he was gone, and all of the furniture had been sold.