You know that show on PBS where the host has different celebrities do a DNA testing, then sometimes tells them they are related to some famous person from the past, such as Abraham Lincoln or Richard the Lion-Hearted?
I decided to do one of those DNA tests, and I’m sorry that I did. I’m not related to anybody famous, but apparently I am related to some infamous characters. My family tree has more bad apples than a corner grocery store after a 7-day blackout.
Apparently, the Minicozzis and the McNeelys are responsible for most of the evil in the world.
The Minicozzis missed being related to Julius Caesar by a hair. Good old Julius was supposed to have a wild week with our distant ancestor Caecilia Pectoris, the busiest call girl in Pompeii, but he missed it because he got himself killed before he could get out of Rome. Caecilia filled his time slot with a local chariot race bookie to whom she owed money, and got knocked up by him instead of by the leader of the whole Roman world. Caecilia never got over it.
Caligula comes up in the Minicozzi family tree, because we are related to his nephew, Nero. Nero liked to lead gang raids at night. He was a singer-songwriter who was always quick to kill any criticism, along with the critic. He also enjoyed setting fires, making Christians take the rap and using them as lion food. He killed his mother and two of his wives. Other than all that, he was a fun guy. He could throw a great orgy.
Before we leave the Minicozzis, I have to mention that we are also kin to the Borgias, of quick acting poison fame. Being invited to dinner at the Borgias’ was like being given a last meal on death row, because you’d be headed for the same place afterward. The Borgia family kitchen was legendary, and the secret ingredients were to die for.
Of course, none of today’s Minicozzis would ever do any of those horrible things. Nowadays, we are tame to the point of being boring, just like the McNeelys on my mother’s side, who were better known for herding sheep in Scotland than for doing away with people, with one exception.
William Wallace the Bruce McNeely, better known as “Blackheart” was the leader of a band of outlaws that robbed travelers in the hills of Scotland back in the 1600s. They were caught after Will’s wife found him skinny dipping in Loch Ness with a local strumpet named Good Time Glynis. Will’s wife beat him to death with a bed warmer, and turned the rest of the gang in to the authorities. There was a price on Will’s head, and his wife was given the reward money just before she was hanged for murdering him.
Maybe if I have this whole DNA thing done over again, they’ll find out that I am related to Michelangelo and Mary, Queen of Scots. That would be worth telling people.
PS: If anyone in my family is reading this, I made it all up because I thought it would be fun. Please don’t hurt me.