Welcome to the Family

It has come to my attention that some people who read this blog have never even met me. This shows that some of my readers have an intense interest in gaining an accurate picture of Taiwan. They have searched high and low for a careful and objective report of life on this island. This search has led them to this blog, which is marked by its factual accuracy and its uncanny ability to stick to relevant aspects of Taiwanese culture. I would like to take the liberty, however, of stepping away from my reporting and introduce myself to those who don't know me.

To really know me, you must first know my family. Let me introduce you to them. We must first go back to the fourteenth century when the first known Thigpen was the Lord High Sheriff of London. This was a time when surnames were still just coming into vogue, and the bearers played fast and loose with the spellings of their names. The Thigpens of yore felt free to spell their names Phippen, Fitzpen, Tippen, or any other variant that they could grab as the mood struck them. Before this time members of the family decorated their given names with fitting adjectives. Thus, at the very tips of the roots of our family tree we find such sobriquets as Alfred the Abashed, Roland the Ridiculous, Bartholomew the Baffled, and Lucius the Lugubrious. Lord High Sheriff Phippen/Fitzpen/Tippen/Thigpen, however, ditched the descriptors in favor something that was a little easier to change the sound and spelling of when necessary and wasn't easy to guess simply by watching his behavior. He was a jovial soul and was well like by Londoners. He was so well loved, in fact, that many of the people enjoyed giving him large sums of money at important times. He was well bred and always felt it incumbent upon himself to give gifts to them in return. Some of his superiors, however, were jealous of his popularity, and they dispatched of him.

None of the immediate descendants of this first Thigpen were sheriffs themselves, but they did have close relationships with sheriffs. It seems that the Thigpen blood was sporting right from the start. These men lived for the hunt. They were also patriotic, considerate, and conscientious men. Not wanting the king's land to be overrun with wildlife, so they took it upon themselves to occasionally cull the forrest of game. They were so fond of hunting that they were not content to be one dimensional sportsmen. Not wanting to be hunters only, they thought it sporting to be the hunted also. They got up with the king's sheriffs set up a nice little game where the Thigpens would hunt the animals and the sheriffs would hunt the Thigpens. It was great fun, and the Thigpens led the sheriffs on a merry chase. It seems that the double duty was too much for many of the Thigpens and the sheriffs won. At least this is my interpretation of the events, since the record of these men ends rather abruptly. The last thing I can find about them is that they died with their heads held high and their feet off the ground. Incidentally, this has been the traditional manner of passing for the most notable of Thigpens.

A number of Thigpens took to the sea in the sixteenth century. The most prominent of the seafaring members of the family was Bart Thigpen. He was an excellent entrepreneur. Bart excelled in what might be called the import/export line of business. He imported merchandise from merchant ships and exported long, sharp, pointed metal sticks and large, heavy, round iron balls. Throughout Bart's career, he kept up a friendly rivalry with one Admiral Clemens. Whenever these men's ships crossed paths they would take to shooting at each other as a way of encouraging each other to hurry on their ways. Eventually, Clemens grew old and crotchety and lost the spirit of the game. In this irritable state, Clemens resorted to low and dastardly tactics; he lay in waiting for Bart one night off a small island that Bart sometimes used as a warehouse for his goods. It was on this island that Bart's life ended in the aforementioned traditional Thigpen fashion.

There has hardly been a war of any size since the fourteenth century that hasn't found a Thigpen fighting bravely. It has not always been the case that the Thigpen was fighting in the war itself, but you may be sure he was fighting somewhere. The world has always been able to count on a Thigpen taking a step when duty calls. Even if a Thigpen was unable to take up arms for some reason, he would still do his part. Take Rufus Thigpen who lived during our American revolution for example. Rufus was unable to join the fight due to a certain spinal condition. Did he stay home, though? Not Rufus. He might well have been known as "The Encourager." At every battle he was right there behind the army giving it bold words of courage. He took care of the baggage, making sure that any goods that a soldier carelessly left behind before going into battle were not lost forever upon the field. Rufus was also useful in case the battle went poorly. He had a special knack for showing the army how to get to safety quickly. Quite a useful fellow, that Rufus. The only mistake he made was when he mixed up some of the goods he was keeping safe and tried to sell a particular trinket to a soldier who had previously been in possession of said trinket. This humorless soldier failed to see the sincere nature of the mistake. Rufus died in the traditional fashion.

There have been some Thigpens who have stepped out of line, so to speak, and brought some dismay to the family. Every family has its black sheep. One such disgrace is the infamous Owen Fitzpen whose life in England spanned the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. He was a merchant seaman by trade, and somehow did rather well for himself in his own dull, honest way. On one trip, however, he was relieved of his goods by Turkish entrepreneurs in the Mediterranean and was taken aboard their ship. One would think that Owen would now seize the opportunity to go into a legitimate business and join forces with the men who obviously thought highly enough of his capital to relieve him of it. Not Owen. He refused to see a good thing even when it hit him right in the face. Rather, He took on the role of a slave, and for seven years he served in servile servitude. Was he content with his lot in life, though? Not at all. Unlike St. Paul, he was not content with whatever state in which he found himself, and he rebelled against his masters. Not only did he rebel, but he also led ten other Christian captives astray by encouraging them to rebel as well. For three hours these eleven rebellious souls fought against sixty-five well meaning Turkish entrepreneurs. In the end, Owen's forces won the day, and they sailed the ship to Spain. There he was offered a position in the Spanish navy if he would convert to Catholicism. Owen was greedy, however, and wanted to see how much he could get for the ship he had taken instead of turning it over to the Spanish crown. In order to decline the Spanish offer, he used the excuse that he was Protestant and could not convert to Catholicism. He then sold his ship and sailed back to England. The family was so upset by Owen's shenanigans that they erected a monument telling the story, hoping that it would serve as a warning to other ill-disposed lads. Owen, ever rebellious, refused to die in the traditional fashion, choosing to die peacefully in his sleep instead. Owen's grandson could not bear the shame; he adopted the "Thigpen" spelling of the name and sailed for the New World. This is a true story.

There are some Thigpens who are famous though not known by name. For example, the man featured in what has been called the greatest country song ever sung was a particularly romantic Thigpen. That is the story of great-uncle Clem and his love for Mable Lou McGowen. You have, no doubt, encountered many quotes, poems, or essays whose lives are due to "Anonymous." Many of you may think that Anonymous was an ancient Greek writer. Not so. Anonymous refers to a long line of Thigpens who were not quite sure how to spell their names.

This leads us to the present crop of Thigpens, and a bumper crop it is. I sprang up with a whole peck of brothers. Even as little sprouts, though, we were quite versatile. We grew up as pirates, cowboys, wild animals, knights, professional athletes, pioneers, sailors, and heroes of every war ever fought. Well, most of us did, anyway. One younger brother was reserved as something of a servant who waits upon the rest of the family's every need. He has never had any fun or adventure. The most exciting thing he ever does is listen to Simon and Garfunkel songs. My parents were thoughtful enough to have enough sons to allow for one such servant.

I myself graduated from college and immediately headed off to a land where my blond hair and blue eyes would be appreciated enough to land a decent job. Having done a lot of serious writing in school, and having a lot more to look forward to when I go back to school, I decided to start this blog to keep my serious writing skills in shape. My inspirations for this writing are Mark Twain and an uncle of mine who used to tell my brothers and I stories when we were seedlings. I plead with you not to go read Twain, because you will never come back to this blog. Go read some G.W.F. Hegel. You'll come back to me then.

I must say in all honesty that I am extremely proud of my family and my name. I would not change names with anyone. I'll hang on to it no matter how many times I have to repeat it and spell it for people I meet. I am not even planning on changing the spelling, though I am thinking about adding a descriptor to it. Something along the lines of TJ the Tedious Thigpen.

You now know me as well as my own mother. That was a very ambiguous sentence, so let me rephrase it. You now know me as well as my own mother knows me. Consider yourself a part of the family. Just remember what your proper manner of dying is now that you are one of us.