The Svendsen Gene

Perhaps you heard the phrase and thought we were all saying "Svendsen jean" in which case you probably imagined skin tight bell bottoms straight from my mom's closet in the 70s or from the rack at a thrift store. You know the kind: so tight on the top you need pliers to get them on, so big on the bell bottom you might receive a check from the city or a street cleaning service for your help in cleaning up the streets. You would be right in thinking of those particular jeans if you heard the phrase "Svendsen jean," but nonetheless you would be wrong. What we're saying, in fact, is "Svendsen GENE."

If you aren't familiar with the phrase "Svendsen gene" I can't help you there. Move on. Pick a new blog to read.

Okay, okay,  I'll give it a try. Svendsen is my mother's maiden name. I can summarize the Svendsen gene phenomenon with 2 stories: 

1. Carolena has a children's book about the Vikings. It stresses that Viking women were tough, independent, "don't get in my way" kind of women. While the men were out pillaging and exploring and all that jazz, the women were at home... doing everything. So when the viking men came back from their travels, who did they find in charge? The viking women. Want to know who my ancestors were? My mom's maiden name is Svendsen.

2. I once saw my mother converse with a man who looked exactly like Mr. T. He had come straight to her from being released from prison. PRISON. And did I mention that he looked like MR. T?? During the course of their conversation I witnessed my mom grab Mr. T by the collar, yank him halfway over a display case, and say sternly, "Don't F*$K with me." THAT my friends, is the Svendsen Gene.