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Taking a dip in the Gene Pool

Today I am working on my birthday present, online registering and filling out paperwork, and then spitting profusely in a cup for Ancestry DNA. I had asked for it for Christmas, didn’t get it, and then blew it off, but Nancy remembered. 

Here’s what I know:  

My cousin traced my dad’s side back—with documentation—to Johannes Klein who came to America in 1706 because the part of Germany he was from persecuted those who weren’t Lutheran. He opened an inn with a tavern outside Philadelphia. His sons changed the spelling of the family name because in America that spelling was considered Jewish. Sheesh, has religious intolerance been a contributor to human woes for a long time or what.  

My mom’s side “Davis” comes from Scotland and Wales I am told. They settled in Georgia. We are supposedly descended from Mary, Queen of Scots, but no one I know of has ever done a formal genealogy search. But I do have my grandmother’s Daughters of the American Revolution and Daughters of the Confederacy certificates. So at least a part of that side of me has been in America for a long time, too. 

So now I’ll find what other little genetic bits and pieces float around inside me.  


Head Music

Very odd and funny thing happened this morning. Sometimes I wake up in the morning with a song in my head that wasn’t there when I went to bed. Usually it’s something I heard the previous day or some new catchy hit. This morning’s smash hit comes from my Cherokee Elementary music class back in the dark ages, from Miss Woodcock (what a name, I now realize) my music teacher. The “Hukilau.”

We are going, to the hukilau

To the huki huki huki huki hukilau

Everybody loves the hukilau

Loves the huki huki huki huki hukilau


I throw my net out into the sea

And all the amma amma come a swimming to me


We are going

To the hukilau

To the huki huki huki huki hukilau.

 I don’t ever remember hearing it since elementary school. I told Nancy this morning, and she says it may have also been in the film Donavan’s Reef, a good John Wayne film that I’ve seen numerous times, but not for at least a decade. Which raises the question, what goes on in our heads while we sleep?

Don Ho's version--not quite as good as Miss Moon's Cherokee 6th Grade's



Who'd a Thunk

Are You Experienced? Asked Jimi Hendricks so long ago.

I went to the post office today, and while there I saw the new Jimi Hendrix block of stamps, shaped like an LP and very psychedelic.

What a bizarre country we live in. The baby boomers truly rule it, at least for now. Jimi was a voice of our generation. But who’d have thunk at any time leading up to or following his drug overdose death in 1970 that Jimi Hendrix would ever be on an official US postage stamp. Jimi Hendrix Stamps

Both he and his music seemed an anathema to our parents generation. But now, totally rehabilited and resplendent, our purple-hazed pal Jimi resides in a place of honor on the envelopes of greeting cards and tax returns.

Go figure.


My Dad

My dad, Phil Kline, died about three weeks ago. He died after a long illness and a gradual decline that accelerated during the last three weeks of his life. We was 92. He was a great man. Many of us say that about our parents when they are gone, "He was a great man, or she a great woman." We mean it too, and to us they were. That my dad was a great man can be validated in his many achievements and the plethora of awards he recieved. But we, each of his family and close friends, could ignore all of the achievements and rewards. Outside of that part of his life, he was a kind, gentle and loving-in his own inarticulate way.

A large group of friends and family-several hundred-attended his funeral. At the reception, a friend of his, speaking of the turn out, put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Hell, Jack, if he had died ten years ago, twice as many would have showed." I guess that is a bane of outliving your contemporaries,

Many times in my life I have been proud to be his son, including that moment.      


The Interviewee

 I co-lead a fledgling writers group at the Louisburg library with author Kate Meadows. We begin our spring semester tonight. For her blog, Kate interviewed me last week and the results are posted on her site listed below.