As Americans, we have a unique habit of wanting to trace our family's lineage to someplace outside our own country. Ask anyone in America where their family derives from, you will, more than not, get a country or region outside the United States.

With the last name of Bruce (and, NO, it's not a first name), I was under the hope assumption that our family derived from Scotland. OK, not glamourous, but look who else is Scottish: Highlander, James Bond, Rob Roy, Braveheart and that wierd Scottish guy from So I Married an Ax Murderer! Cool company, eh? Helz yeah, and Robert the Bruce, KING of Scots! Yeah, baby! KING!

I attended highland games in North Carolina, Alexandria and Atlanta. I joined the Saint Andrews Society! I ate HAGGIS (which is really just liverwurst)!

So, yeah (sniffs, and wipes nose on sleeve), I've got awesomely manly breeding!

...I thought.

Just about the time my little boy was born, my brother calls me up. He said a "man" contacted him who claimed to be a distant relative that shared a great uncle. He had done a more thorough family tree because he was in touch with the part of the family that hadn't dropped off the face of the earth. If he is to be believed, Bruce is not Scottish, it's in fact derived from "Brouse"... French.

Some punk-assed Frenchman came to America in the 1800's and Anglisized his name from "Pierre Brouse" to "Peter Bruce", forever insuring generations of "Bruces" to have delusions of Scottish glory!

So, in my head, I have gone from this to this. From this to this!

Crap!

Now, I don't have anything against the French, they were an awesome help to America when we were breaking away from the English. Though, I don't like seafood (which is half of French Cuisine) their food is way better than traditional Scottish or English fare. It's just a little bit of ancestral culture shock to go from

this:

to this:

Click for a good taunting

EGF: