I get the worst machine and turn the crank,

            And watch the names go by,

            My eyes bug out and I'll be frank,

             I sometimes wonder why.

              And does it really make a damn,

              If Becky married Tom or Sam?

            Or sailed upon the sea?

              The dusty books, the puzzled looks,

              That's genealogy.

               The census scrawl, the long lost mall,

             The time I once had free,

              When hours were spent,

              In blessed sleep,

            Not genealogy!

          Once it was the football teams,

            Or looking at the stars,

          A fish to catch down by the stream,

           And playing my guitar.

          Now it's names galore and tales of yore,

         And thou and thy and thee

          The courthouse burned!

        What have I learned?

         That's genealogy.

         But then I look at all the names,

           In ordered files, forever claimed,

          From time's dark clutch,

        It isn't much,

         My genealogy.

       I know they're out there, calling me,

      The names, the dates, the stories,

        The lure of genealogy,

       Is long lost love and glory.

     You ask me why I cruise the Net,

       And write for Rooters free,

      I guess it's that I love the stuff,

           This genealogy!

          Randall Black, Irvine, Ca.

       Feb. 26, 1996     rbblack@uci.edu

       Written for my friends in Roots-L

         for any purpose they may find.

Music:  Some Where in Time