Genealogy Does Not Lie!

There are lots of things that we can fudge about in life. My height for example. For years I have confidently stated my height as 5'8". It was an easier sell when I had ridiculously poofy hair. My weight is another prime example of an "almost" that has become a causally accepted truth. I weigh about "185lbs." Speaking of "truth", my brother Rick had a profoundly spiritual experience a number of years ago that created a "belief" amongst most in our family that we are Irish. As a man of faith, there are many things that I have accepted as verities in life without demanding actual proof. I will not bore my vast worldwide readership with the excruciating details of the Ricker's spiritual manifestation. Let me just state that it involved the "gift of accents." Over the years many in our family have assumed that it was a manifestation of the gift of tongues. This is not correct. This is not merely a matter of semantics. In deed, the Ricker's "Irish Miracle" was the gift of accents, which although appears to be a gift without biblical or spiritual reference, is nevertheless accepted widely in the Smart family as a legitimate spiritual gift. Please know, that the Smarts, as a people of faith, have been willing to accept many things exclusively on the basis of well told family stories.

Last year, verifiable and meticulously documented genealogical research revealed conclusively that our nearly pure English blood was tainted green by some wandering leprachaun from Dublin, Ireland. These are hard, cold, irrefutable facts--we're Irish! At times while observing certain family members I have serously wondered whether we had some kind of donkey blood in us. Now I realize that we owe it all to a lost Irish soul from Dublin.

For years, the Ricker (against the tide of public opinion and even harsh criticism from some doubting family members) proudly marched in the St. Patrick's Day parade in downtown SLC. At times, I confess, I too doubted. This year, however, as the "O'Smarts" donned their traditional Irish garb and valiantly marched for Eire, I felt a sense of destiny about who we truly are. To be sure, my blood felt green. While the name the "O'Smarts" is "technically"an assumed name for marching purposes only, make no mistake, we are Irish. Genealogy does not lie!

Irish to the Core!

A lovely Irish Lassie and her not so Irish and very neurotic hound "Clover."

A Beautiful Irish Pair!

Below are some cool pics of my most righteous Irish son chilling in Eire as a beloved laddie of the homeland.