After some what I can assume was some "for fun" research my cousin came across an album cover and blurb about my real grandfather when he was the guitarist for Merle Haggard. It is pretty cool and fascinating that my grandfather did this, even if it was after my g-ma and him divorced and wasn't a part of the family any more.
It is all sort of surreal though to think that someone, who I have (had ... he has been dead for like 30 years) blood ties to was sorta famous. And not in the obscure famous Irish jockey or that guy who wrote "My Old Kentucky Home" and "Camptown Races" (both my relatives). I can say Merle Haggard and not have to explain really who he is or sing the song (camp town ladies sing that song, do da, do da...).
It also sort of interesting that it wasn't until these past few years that anyone in my family talked about it. It was never mentioned when either Evan or I did our family history projects. Or even when I retold (and told and told) my story of being mere feet away from Merle. To think, I could have yelled something along the lines of "I am Bobby Wayne's granddaughter" and I might have gotten a response. In reality, I might have gotten a blank stare - that man, is freakin' old. But still.
Though I suppose in the end it all makes sense, no one wants to really talk about a man who was an alcoholic and not a part of the family. Especially if he was semi-successful afterward. Logically it all makes sense why it took this long to become any sort of conversation topic. He's not exactly someone that my family wants to glorify - nor do I really think he should be, either. I suppose the acknowledgment of it all that I am getting at.
I suppose we wouldn't be a family though if there still weren't untold stories or skeletons hanging around in the closet.
It also sort of interesting that it wasn't until these past few years that anyone in my family talked about it. It was never mentioned when either Evan or I did our family history projects. Or even when I retold (and told and told) my story of being mere feet away from Merle. To think, I could have yelled something along the lines of "I am Bobby Wayne's granddaughter" and I might have gotten a response. In reality, I might have gotten a blank stare - that man, is freakin' old. But still.
Though I suppose in the end it all makes sense, no one wants to really talk about a man who was an alcoholic and not a part of the family. Especially if he was semi-successful afterward. Logically it all makes sense why it took this long to become any sort of conversation topic. He's not exactly someone that my family wants to glorify - nor do I really think he should be, either. I suppose the acknowledgment of it all that I am getting at.
I suppose we wouldn't be a family though if there still weren't untold stories or skeletons hanging around in the closet.
1 comment:
I like your grandpa's hair cut - we should get someone to replicate!
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