The Amazing Adventures of the Flynn Fanny

As perhaps you can tell from my website and my surname, I'm Irish. Real Irish. The kind of Irish who didn't intermarry with other ethnicities after generations in America. The kind of Irish who visit relatives back in Ireland. The kind of Irish who use the phrase "God bless ya" as a tag at the end of every other sentence. The kind of Irish who sunburn in under ten minutes on a foggy day. Irish.

My father's family has been here longer, but on my mom's side I'm third generation San Francisco Irish. The family is very proud of that and any of our ranks can point out the house on Larkin Street that my great-grandfather and his brothers rebuilt after the 1906 fire.

I can trace most of my attributes to this side of the family - my singing voice and musical ability came through Great Aunt Koggin (Katherine. Yeah, I know. How the hell do you get Koggin from Katherine?), the red hair (in theory) from Great-Grandmother Flynn and the short stature from, well, everyone.

And then there's the Flynn Fanny.

Curious the things we inherit. The Flynn Fanny, notorious from the lanes of Ennistymon to the foggy hills of San Francisco, is part of my birthright. How a bubble butt like that landed in our Irish gene pool we may never know, but a full 3/4 of the Flynn women sport some version of this tush. Try as we might, there is no defeating that high and wide backside bulge. Stairmaster? Ha, only makes is firmer. Jogging? Good luck. Swimming? Ah, well, the Flynn Fanny isn't keen on swimsuits...

But I digress. The point, however fleeting, of this blog is to announce to the world that the Flynn Fanny is alive and giggling on this latest descendant of the line. I'm proud of my Flynn Fanny, proud of the line of hard working teachers, cops, mailmen and pig farmers it came from. Proud of the inspirtation they have always been and will always continue to be in my life.

And to quote the great wealth of wisdom that is That 70's Show: "I love to show it and I love to shake it!"

God bless ya.