Those who visit frequently may have noticed that I tend to post memoir entries at the start of each week. These used to be called “Memoir Mondays” because I like alliteration. But lately, for practical reasons (much to the vexation of my OCD) they’ve turned into Tuesdays. (Did you see how I subtly used alliteration there, OCD?)
Until now, the order of my memoir posts has been non-chronological (sorry, OCD). I simply wrote about whatever popped into my head, or themed the post around a continuing topic (scars, food, career, my spiritual journey).
However, for some time I’ve had a desire to write a real memoir, as in a book, or more likely a couple of books. And so it occurred to me that if I started doing weekly memoir posts in chronological order, I could lay the groundwork for My Real Memoir (aka Don’t Read This, You’ll Only Encourage Him) and get my OCD off my back.
So…
Thus beginneth the Life of Mitch: “It was a dark and stormy night, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times…” No, wait, that would be 2021 (and a smidge unoriginal). Let’s go further back…
According to Ancestry.com, the first Teemley, Conrad (whose father was not named Teemley) came to America from Germany. He married a sweet German girl with the same first, last, and middle name as his mother. OK, that’s kinda creepy. Except that Conrad’s mother wasn’t his mother. Which is to say that, apparently Conrad was illegitimate (I’ve been called a bastard a few times, but never realized it was historical).
And his wife? No actual relation to Conrad’s same-named cheated-on non-mom, but a woman with a completely different set of parents (whew). Only, she didn’t have the same name as her father either. Sagen was? (Say what?)
And, adding to the mystery, according to AncestryDNA.com, I have no German blood! Because, even though Conrad and Eva were German-born, they weren’t actually Germans. The logical conclusion, therefore, is that they were international spies serving undercover as stodgy 19th century farmers. Or could it be Ancestry.com is confused? Nein!
This is going downhill fast. Let’s fast-forward a bit.
“Chapter One: I Am Born.” I was born in Whittier, California, the home of Richard M. Nixon, to whom I’m also not related (whew). “So you won’t have me to kick around anymore” (that’s funny if you’re old).
Oops, out of time.
Until next week, meine freunde, auf wiedersehen!
Said the maybe-not-German memoirist.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
“Ach du meine Güte!”
;>)
…and if you ever need help from a real German (not real memoirist) … let me know … Ja???
Sehr gut, Heidi!
Sorry… I don’t have any German phrases to contribute here. But I do applaud your memoiring efforts. I am working on one, too, right now, but focusing primarily on the spiritual dimensions of my journey. It is an intriguing process, isn’t it?
It is indeed!
Oh dear!
Along the same lines as Oh, dear, I was going to say, Oh, my!
Sounds really funny! German ancestors which were not Germans! Lol I think i will have a lot of more time using AncestryDNA. Falls ich irgendwie weiterhelfen kann. Sehr gerne! Ich könnte mir vorstellen, dass deine Vorfahren aus dieser meiner Heimat geflüchtet waren. Lol Viele Grüße! Michael
Danke, Michael!
Sehr gerne, Mitch!
Important to realize that ethnicity below the continental level is a guess and each company uses its own reference populations and algorithms to determine ethnicity. Plus, go to YouTube and type in 6013 years of European history. The video is only about 3 1/2 minutes long. Just because your ancestor was born in what is now Germany doesn’t mean they were ethnically German.
Interesting to know. I’ll check it out. Thanks, WG!
I always appreciate and admire assiduous adoption of alliteration as long as it is aptly applied. I am aware that I am taking advantage of my own apparent affection to assure you that you are not alone in your addiction. I hope to have assuaged any apprehensions against applying any and all alliterative apparatus. Alas! Have I advanced across a line? Apologies all around! 😉
No apology needed, Gina. Unless it’s for making my face sore (due to smiling too hard).
BTW, I’m looking forward to more of the memoir! Sorry for the sore face! Oops, I did it again…
I am looking forward to reading that. And I’ll say right now, when the full four book boxed set is for sale, I’ll buy a set.
But only on a Monday.
Well, of course, Andrew.
I had to laugh at the Grant Wood, “American Gothic.” I would hope that my children remember me as the woman who wore a fake nose and glasses as we went into the McDonald’s drive thru lane.
How could they forget something like that?
Lol
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Great start, Mitch! From Roo, LSHS alum. 😉
Yes, I’m old, and that WAS funny. 😉
And that, Sancho, is how one tees up a ball.
You’re in trouble now, Mitch! Our daughter-in-law has the same first, middle, and last name as mine. When our son first met her he adamantly announced he could not possibly date her for the reason you cite: just too creepy. They were married two years later. In actuality, we’ve had a lot of fun sharing the same name!
Whoa! What are the proverbial odds?
😀😃😄😃😀😂
Thanks for the good laugh Mitch!
GASP! You were born in Whittier, California? So was my father. And I was born a few hundred miles north, but still in California. Another Eerie Similarity!
My first clear memory is of an earthquake. 6.7 or 6.9, accounts vary. It shook me up pretty good, and set the standard for the rest of my life.
I’m looking forward to reading your memoirs.
Thanks, sis.
Reblogged this on Love and Love Alone.
This was so funny and mind boggling too.
😁😃😲🤣
You have set me up. I’m hooked. The rest better not go downhill. That’s what you get for believing your best must be the lead off. 😀 (Truthfully, I have no doubt that you can continue your high point.!)
;>) Thanks, Oneta.
Very entertaining!! I can’t wait for part 2!
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I always like your serious thoughtful posts AND your humorous ones like this one as well. Thank you for the smiles today reading this.
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Thanks for laughs Mitch. It was fun tripping on your purported lineage. I even enjoyed the comments. Looking forward to the next chapter.
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Mitch, Mitch, Mitch! I’m hoping my second book in Grandma Leora’s trilogy of memoirs will be published before I turn 77 (in June). It’s getting a real cover and formatting, and I should be downsizing and sorting. But my head and heart went directly to Leora’s early stories (the WWII story was published in 2019–five sons served, only two came home), and I’m trying to figure out how to weave her early years with those of her husband’s, including stories of the first in their families to come to Iowa. BUT, I also have German ancestors who weren’t born in Germany. They’re from the island of Pellworm, which is off Schelswig-Holstein. They came to America so their sons wouldn’t have to “serve the kaiser.” Makes sense, because when the parents were born, that part of “Germany” belonged to Denmark. So are we German or Dane???
Good question. Maybe just tell people you’re Pellwormian. Good conversations-starter.
Oh, how delicious!
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My Blohm and Ohrt ancestors came to Iowa in the late 1800s from Pelworm, an island off Schleswig-Holstein, Germany. They came so their sons wouldn’t have to fight for the Kaiser. But when the parents were born, that part of Germany belonged to Denmark. So are we Dane or German??? Their sons ended up in WWI, fighting against Germany. And in WWII, also in the ETO.
History! As messy as it is fascinating.
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Looking into the past can be quite adventurous sometimes. lol 🙂 Good luck with your future books project. ^_^
Thank you!
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I’m very sad to say I got the Nixon joke. Great storytelling as always, Mitch. God bless!
;>) Thanks, Nancy. And God bless you too.
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This is hilarious. Your sarcastic humor is admirable. Any roots in India? Sarcasm is quite prevalent here. Haha. Great sharing. 🙂
Thank you, Terveen! No, no roots in India, but there are quite a few Indian bloggers I follow and greatly enjoy reading.
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The mind boggles . . .
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My dad confessed to being a class clown; my brother was a class clown. (He could mimic a distant siren by whistling through his teeth, his mouth barely cracked. All heads would turn to the window, including the teacher, but of course there’d be no vehicle in sight.) SO, when I became a teacher, I tried to appreciate the class clowns and allow them a little leeway to let the sillies out. After all, “laughter is good medicine.” We need to chuckle now and then!
What a gracious and tolerant teacher you were, Nancy!
I tried–not always successful!!
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I love this idea of releasing a segment of memoir each week, Mitch! Is the
Story of your band in LA when you were 20 real? I know you said it was memoir, but it’s been such a wild ride that it all seems fantastical to me (in a fun way)!
Thank you, Stacey, and yes it’s all real!
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Love this Mitch!
Thank you, Kara!
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