Family Tree

 

Lately I've had reason to prepare a list of each of my sexual partners. Though I am young, the list is not unsubstantial. Each name though is remembered, first and last. I have a kept little book. I was not fooled by false names. I sought verification, searched wallets, glove compartments, drawers. So even as the faces have faded from my memory, I can rest assured each name is spelled correctly. The list consisted of 63 names. If typed in single single-spaced column it would occupy 3 pages. But in many cases I was in possession of more information about these individuals. I knew, for instance, that each of them had other sexual partners and I knew the names of many of these. I added the names to my list, each beside the name of the person he had sex with. I use he because only men were put on my list. And if I had knowledge of a woman who had sex with one of the names on my list, the knowledge was disregarded.

The list grew longer and longer with, I might add, a lot of repetitions. It was hard to deal with all the shuffling paper, so I decided to arrange all the names on a chart, sort of like a family tree with me as patriarch, generation one. Generation two was the 63 names I've had sex with, generation three the ones generation two had sex with, all the to infinity. My chart is very large, and growing. It is an unfortunate flaw in the system that names can and often are repeated. I alone occupy the God-like place of uni-generationality. My name can only occupy one space, and that is the first one. This is a project which, even given the possibility of a sudden and continuing celibacy on behalf of each of the names can never be completed. This is only because the others have not kept such accurate records as I.

 

I like coffee. I hate most teas. I like pop, but not very often. I hate gin, but I like rye. I like fantasy movies, but I hate science fiction movies. I like country music and I like pop music. I hate Brian Mulroney. I like tea pots. I hate wallpaper. I like posters. I hate ice cream. I like chocolate cake.

My great great grandfather moved to Quebec City after the War of 1812. He died of small pox. My great grandfather moved to Windsor. He died of pneumonia. My grandfather worked in a factory in Windsor. He died of natural causes when he was very old. My father works in a different factory. He is still alive but a cousin of mine died in an automobile accident.

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