The Fam
It is fair to say that my family is ridiculous, and has been for generations, in all its branches, direct and collateral. The Irish side of the Steinberg family (short for O’Steinberg) were amazing liars. They also, like any good Irish family, could and did drink anyone under the table. One member of this branch of the family, my great aunt Blanche, was intelligent, clever, and a huge drunk. She had nudist tendencies and a close relationship with her dog, respectively. Papa Steinberg had to fetch her from jail for these tendencies on one of his first dates with Nana. It was reported that he retrieved the dog from jail, and left Blanche. Great Aunt Blanche is also the ONLY person in my enormous family that bears any physical resemblance to me. I honestly do not look like anyone in my family, least of all my parents. This just gives more credit to one of my favorite expressions-Where did I come from?
Namesake?
The Steinbergs proper had left Germany by April 1865, the date of one individual’s appearance in a Massachusetts artillery unit of the Union Army. This inspired the family motto, Better late than never. This is not to be confused with the other Steinberg family motto, Better never, as some of the family stayed in Germany. They remain in the Fatherland to this day, making very bad Riesling.
Among the Steinberg clan, it appears to be customary to name one son, Henry Joseph, or Joseph Henry. I plan on putting a stop to this tradition, not so much because I dislike the names Joseph and Henry, but mainly because this presupposes I will actually bear children, and that presupposes that someone will actually like me enough to want to share chromosomes with me.
Mom’s family
My Polish grandfather had a close relationship with his dog and his booze. He lived near a church and sent his dog to “go get those Protestants” every Sunday morning. Finally the minister visited my grandpa and told him to please keep the dog in the house as it was scaring people away from worship. Grandpa was also responsible for ‘renaming’ my mother at her christening by allowing the priest to baptize her “Mary” instead of “Pat”, which is what my Grandmother had been calling my mother for the first few weeks of her existence, and what the state of Massachusetts had written on Mom’s birth certificate. To this day, no one, including the United States Government, is really sure what the hell my mom’s real name is. I continue my mother’s tradition of confusing the government by my slow and gradual process of relegating the second half of my Christian name to middle name status (see archives).
Back to Dad
At some point, the Joubert family came down from Canada, most likely Montreal. These people were hard working, honest, and remarkably dull. Canada doesn’t really count as a foreign country anyway. It’s a just a colder, more forested, less bigoted version of America. Anyway, the Jouberts do not contribute anything to my story, so I will stop talking about them here.
I also boast of English stock, the Kershaws, from Sheffield, England. The non-rhotic accent of New England frightened these people away, and they took refuge in the South. As they fought for the Wrong Side in the War Between the States, I chose to edit them out of our history as much as courtesy will allow. This is especially rich since I myself have lived in Virginia for 92% of my life.
(Yes, I just figured that out with a calculator).
The Steinberg family was at no point Jewish, despite the protestations of a "Jewish" person that this is “nomadically impossible”. We are by tradition Roman Catholic (the best kind of Catholic). No one clings to the teachings of Cathol more than my mother, who has done her best to instill Catholic Guilt in all of her children and grandchildren.
Bad-ass?
There is a rumor amongst the Steinbergs that our name was at one point “von Steinberg”. No one can seem to prove this either way, so we remain simply the Steinbergs. This is unfortunate, as von Steinberg is v. bad-ass.
Namesake?
The Steinbergs proper had left Germany by April 1865, the date of one individual’s appearance in a Massachusetts artillery unit of the Union Army. This inspired the family motto, Better late than never. This is not to be confused with the other Steinberg family motto, Better never, as some of the family stayed in Germany. They remain in the Fatherland to this day, making very bad Riesling.
Among the Steinberg clan, it appears to be customary to name one son, Henry Joseph, or Joseph Henry. I plan on putting a stop to this tradition, not so much because I dislike the names Joseph and Henry, but mainly because this presupposes I will actually bear children, and that presupposes that someone will actually like me enough to want to share chromosomes with me.
Mom’s family
My Polish grandfather had a close relationship with his dog and his booze. He lived near a church and sent his dog to “go get those Protestants” every Sunday morning. Finally the minister visited my grandpa and told him to please keep the dog in the house as it was scaring people away from worship. Grandpa was also responsible for ‘renaming’ my mother at her christening by allowing the priest to baptize her “Mary” instead of “Pat”, which is what my Grandmother had been calling my mother for the first few weeks of her existence, and what the state of Massachusetts had written on Mom’s birth certificate. To this day, no one, including the United States Government, is really sure what the hell my mom’s real name is. I continue my mother’s tradition of confusing the government by my slow and gradual process of relegating the second half of my Christian name to middle name status (see archives).
Back to Dad
At some point, the Joubert family came down from Canada, most likely Montreal. These people were hard working, honest, and remarkably dull. Canada doesn’t really count as a foreign country anyway. It’s a just a colder, more forested, less bigoted version of America. Anyway, the Jouberts do not contribute anything to my story, so I will stop talking about them here.
I also boast of English stock, the Kershaws, from Sheffield, England. The non-rhotic accent of New England frightened these people away, and they took refuge in the South. As they fought for the Wrong Side in the War Between the States, I chose to edit them out of our history as much as courtesy will allow. This is especially rich since I myself have lived in Virginia for 92% of my life.
(Yes, I just figured that out with a calculator).
The Steinberg family was at no point Jewish, despite the protestations of a "Jewish" person that this is “nomadically impossible”. We are by tradition Roman Catholic (the best kind of Catholic). No one clings to the teachings of Cathol more than my mother, who has done her best to instill Catholic Guilt in all of her children and grandchildren.
Bad-ass?
There is a rumor amongst the Steinbergs that our name was at one point “von Steinberg”. No one can seem to prove this either way, so we remain simply the Steinbergs. This is unfortunate, as von Steinberg is v. bad-ass.
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