My post yesterday reminded me of what I call the Yocum Gene. It’s a theory I have based off of an episode of The Simpsons. It’s a Lisa episode, so not really that memorable, except that I found some truth in it.
In the episode, Lisa discovers that members of the Simpson Family start off smart, but then as they go thorough childhood, they turn into…well into Bart or Homer. Lisa, still retaining her intelligence, becomes depressed because she knows that someday she will be reduced to saying “D’oh” as well. At the end, Marge reassures Lisa by bringing in all the Simpson women who, it turns out, have retained their intelligence and have gone on to become scientists and musicians. Lisa is relieved.
Unfortunately, the Yocum gene isn’t as innocuous as the Simpson Gene. In fact, it could easily be called the Ditzy Gene. And the problem with it is that it strikes the women of the family, not the men. It’s also progressive, getting worse as we age. Here is an example of what I have to look forward to.
My mom’s family lived with my great grandparents for several years when she was young. This was back in the days when extended families typically gathered for supper on Sundays. Great Grand Mom Yocum was a good cook and typically hosted the meals. She would go all out and provide a nice big spread for everyone.
One Sunday she made roast chicken and lots of sides to go with it. Everyone was gathered around the table while the matriarch of the family loaded the table with goodies. She had prepared enough food that she had to make a number of trips back into the kitchen to get it all. The table was so full with place settings and food that she had to shift things around to make it all fit. She hustled and bustled, but finally everything was served.
Great grand Mom Yocum finally took her seat at the table, surveyed the table and noticed something missing. “Where’s the chicken?” she asked.
Her husband, a quiet man, calmly responded, “Your sitting on it Em” and carried on with his dinner. After years of marriage, I guess it didn’t surprise him that his wife could forget that she had placed the chicken on the seat, and it didn’t surprise him that she would sit on it without noticing either.
And this, is my future.