Letter to Thomas Keith

Dear Thomas,

You won’t for the life of you be able to guess who I woke up full of, metaphorically, this morning: Robert the Bruce.

Imagine: FULL of him.

And then there was a reason: A car in front of my apartment could not be started. It needed a physical push, and I got dressed, and the owner and I pushed it up the hill (slight), he got in, I ran around and shoved its nose, he popped the clutch, and it roared to life.

I know that although your last name is Keith, you’ve told me that you shortened it from some Greek name that sounds nothing like Keith to me. We all have our reasons -- I mean, after all, you are quite the noted Robert Burns scholar, and I’m sure your current surname helps more than say Pappas or Onassis, or even Spanikopita ever would.

Frankly, I know little about Mr. Burns work, but I’m sure if I knew more, I’d be happy I did. But what really got my Scot-thing going, happened a few hours before, and I had just awakened after knowing I needed a couple of hours rest to organize my mind before writing to you.

I was going through old, published, family history, and saw that this short excerpt of another Scot (Sir Walter Scott), from his The Fair Maid of Perth, and in it, he says something about his estates neighbors who are also his kinsmen, whom he was forever visiting and whose company he heartily enjoyed:

Within the bounds of Annandale
The gentle Johnstones ride
They have been there a thousand years
And a thousand more they will abide.

You see, my antecedents were Johnstones (Johnstons after arrival in Carolina. NB: I did NOT claim anything about my ancestors -- hold this thought for now). So you can trace my lineage backward -- unbroken -- to Martel, aka Charles the Hammer, of about 700 AD. Other illustrious antecedents of mine (and MORE so of my sister-in-law, Gail, and her children: Connor Michael, Max* Andrew, and Taylor Ann -- Kenans, of course, all. (Hold this thought as well.)

Mike’s second son was named Max after the main character in Maurice Sendak’s classic Where the Wild Things Are. Read on: Once in Cape May, I had come across this incredible book and was SHOCKED that I had never heard of it. Well, turns out my mother had -- and she had seen to it that none of her children found out about the well-established, perennially-mega-selling tale. And then when she heard they were going to name their boy Max, she commenced (with my father and probably Gail’s Dad, Larry Godley) to shame Mike and Gail into giving him a true Christian name for a proper baptism. They settled on Maxwell for his legal name. St. Maxwell, I am not familiar with, but who’s paying attention, anyway??? No one noticed that -- including me.

For the benefit of my near-family, whose copy of the original version of The Kenan Family disappeared mysteriously (supposedly from my brother's house) about 20 years ago -- and they never bought or looked at the 1990 update, although I’ve taken it there to share several-a-time, I’ll list a few notables:

Pepin the Short (It was a long time ago.)
Charlemagne b. 747
Pepin, King of Italy b. 776
Bernard, King of Lombardy b. 818
William Longswords, Duke of Normandy d. 996
Richard de Fearless, Duke of Normandy b. 933
Bunches of de Clares (Earls of Hertford and Gloucester), and including FIVE MAGNA CHARTA SURETIES (Google it.)
Then comes Robert the Bruce (1274-1329, Robert I of Scotland)
Robert II (First Stuart Monarch)
Robert III
James I (We’re still in Scotland.)
James II

and then it goes to James, 1st Lord Hamilton to his son, James Hamilton, 1st Earl of Aman (1475-1529). Continues in similar vein, Sir John Johnstone is the first use of that surname, 1539. Place names mentioned most: Clydesdale, Douglas, Stapleton, Annen +/- dale, and “our home, Armagh,” where Thomas Kenan married Elizabeth Johnston. Since the “e” was left off, I’m presuming it was after the Atlantic passage.

Too bad I’m descended from Thomas’s brother, Felix. (No wonder I’m cat-like.) But I do NOT share the Johnstone family blood. My sister-in-law has it from her mother’s side, so my nephews and niece are a reuniting of this perhaps-interesting-to-me-only lineage. And you know what? It doesn’t matter one bit. If you don’t like your blood, buy a transfusion!!! That’s what I always say.

But here is what Frank Hawkins Kenan had to say:

“The greatest gift the Almighty can bestow upon mankind is life itself -- along with the ability to choose. Men and women can choose to live a life governed by the laws of nature and the laws governing behavior as expressed by the prophets and the disciples as represented in the Will of God or they can choose to ignore those laws. The greatest gift parents can bestow on their children is their inheritance: the character, the energy, the mental capacity, and the culture of their ancestors.”

Frank was a devout Presbyterian, but, as you have already noted, he did NOT put this into a Christian or even Judeo-Christian context.

I’m half starved and must get some food as I’ve put off eating so I could get this completed. To wrap, let me just say this: My father always dissed his distant Kenan relatives, although his oldest sister, Melba, always told me tales of how great the family history was. Dad pooh-poohed her, of course (until Jane didn’t measure up to out-of-state admissions standards at UNC Chapel Hill. Then he HAD to pull the connection to get her in. Dad had to have at least one UNC grad and his only child-bearing child, Mike, had to have one (Connor) as well, if -- and it was ALWAYS a HUGE "IF" -- the whole diabolical Republican Party/PRI Party Mexico/drug-slavery plan was to be completely pulled off.

But instead of that happening, it looks like I was caused by incompetent, drug-riddled, nut-balls to stumble upon the true Holy Grail -- and you are going to have to go research the real meaning of “Holy Grail” to understand my audacious statement here.

Dan Brown: I salute you -- but I done better. And my blog will make a bigger-selling book once the politics cools down a tetch. Remember: EVERYTHING I WRITE IS COPYRIGHTED. Fair use is fair use.

But don’t nobody even THINK about treading on me -- I’m full of Lenny-the-Bruce!!!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

With love to all,
Scott