Would you ever use an online dating service? Why or why not? Have you already?
If I was desperate for a date, I guess I might. And no, I have not already, because I’ve never been desperate for a date.
Well, okay, maybe there was that one time when I had to go to the spring prom the year after I graduated from high school to crown the next prom queen. Whoever thought up that stupid tradition probably also invented online dating for just such an emergency.
But no worries, even without the internet I managed to dig up some guy to escort me. Didn’t have to pay him or anything, although I sure can’t remember what was in it for him. The pleasure of my sarcastic eye rolling company I guess.
At this point in my life I certainly don’t have any high school proms looming in my forseeable future, and even going on an actual ‘date’ is a real stretch of the imagination. Especially one arranged online. Because I’ve heard some horror stories. Like how you should put 911 on speed dial on your phone and choose a crowded coffee shop with several exits for your meeting place and even then it could all go horribly wrong.
Really I’m just a complete chicken shit and can’t imagine any of it. Although I do believe it’s the way of the future. And just like being introduced to your cousins girlfriends fathers nephews friend from some place you’ve never heard of and having it all work out….I think the odds of finding someone worth the effort online are just as good.
If you could speak to one family member who has passed on, who would you pick?
Why? What would you want to ask them?
My great great great grandmother, Margaret Scott (1782-1865) came to Canada from Ireland with her six children – John, William, Thomas, George, Eliza and Mary Ann. Her husband died on the ship.
It’s her husband I’d like to talk to, because no one seems to be able to figure out exactly who he was. Or if he even existed or was on the ship at all. If we knew more about him we could trace the ancestors all the way back to who knows where. Not too many people back then cared much about a womans origins, so there appears to be nothing else to be uncovered regarding Margaret. And without a name for her husband and some dates there’s just dead ends.
Much easier to go forward from her son William to his son, Robert John, to his son, another William (my grandfather) to his daughter, my mother, another Margaret. (If I’ve learned anything at all, it’s that our family liked to use the same names over and over again, kind of like the Royal Family, but infinitely more confusing because we never thought to add roman numerals to their names.)
Besides asking my great great great grandfather who he was and where he came from, I’d like to know how he died. Maybe Margaret threw him overboard. Although I can’t imagine how she thought she would survive on a different continent without a husband, raising six children on her own. She lived to be 83, so perhaps she had a plan.
Next time I go to see a psychic (I actually saw one for the first time a couple of weeks ago! It was great fun!) I’ll try to remember to ask her about my great etc. etc. no-name grandpa. Accuracy isn’t as important to me as a good story, so there’s an avenue to explore. Maybe he’ll have so much to say I’ll be inspired to write it all down for posterity. And then one of my descendants will have the fun of sorting through it all trying to separate fact from fiction. Like it matters or something.