Does anyone remember high school biology class? No, not
the part where you tried to get a girl for a lab partner so you could make her
squeamish when both of you dissected a frog… but the genetics part. The part
where they talked about “dominant” and “recessive” genes.
Let me bring back some memories (maybe).
This section of high school biology generally started with a
discussion of eye color. Why did some people have brown eyes and some people
have blue eyes? The answer, of course, was genes. If one parent had brown eyes
and the other parent had blue eyes, then their child would probably have brown
eyes because the brown eye gene is “dominant”, and the blue eye gene is “recessive”.
They also talked about other genes, like hair color, and “wavy”
hair vs. “straight” hair. I remember all of this because I had a disagreement
with my biology teacher about the eye color genes.
You see, I have hazel eyes,
and as we were discussing “dominant” and “recessive” eye color genes, they only
talked about brown eyes, green eyes, and blue eyes. Never about hazel eyes. I
asked how do you get hazel eyes, and the biology teacher gave me this
convoluted explanation that I barely understood.
I disagreed with him, and told him so (bad move – and a
trait that took me far too many years to overcome). I resolved to prove him
wrong. I figured out what I thought was the correct genetic combination to get
hazel eyes. I shared this information with my teacher, and the whole class, and
the teacher, naturally, said I was not correct. To compound my frustration, he
even chuckled. Not good for my ego. Well, I thought, what does he know? I
silently vowed to prove him incorrect the next day.
That night I went home to find out the eye color of my
parents and all four of my grandparents. This would prove my genetic
combination of eye color genes was correct to produce my hazel eyes.
Unfortunately, when I asked my parents their eye color, and asked the eye color
of my grandparents, I found out NONE of my predicted eye colors matched. NOT
ONE. I had all six people wrong.
The next day, I didn’t mention it in class, being content to
quietly fade away into oblivion on this issue. Near the end of class, the
biology teacher asked if I had changed my mind about how hazel eyes were
produced. Sheepishly, I told how I had failed, and failed miserably. He
chuckled, again, but he was kind and didn’t give me detention for hassling him
the day before.
Anyway, this “dominant” and “recessive” gene thing came up
the other week at the coffee shop. I was mentioning that I had lost my list of
something or other.
I make lots of lists – the usual stuff – To do lists,
shopping lists, Christmas gift lists, weekend chore lists, etc. I mentioned
that I LOVED lists because they gave me the “illusion”
of control.
A friend of mine commented that I liked lists because it was
in my genes.
I vehemently disagreed. I said my mother taught me how to
make lists. She was very good at it, and I remember many occasions when she
specifically sat me down and gave me lessons in good list-making. This is where
the “dominant” and ”recessive” gene chatter began.
“I don’t remember”, I retorted, “anything in high school
biology class about a gene for list-making”.
I mean, let’s think about this. If there was a gene for
“list-making”, then it would have to be either “dominant” or “recessive”. What
would the opposing gene be - a “forgetting things" gene? I may have struck out
in biology class, but I was onto something this time.
After several rounds of “I said”, “He said”, I launched my
final logical argument. I announced that if list-making was truly genetic, then I
would be powerless over making them, and I was not. I confidently stated that I
could easily go a full 30 days without making a single list of anything.
My friend doubted me, so a small wager was placed – a free
coffee and scone.
Being the nice person that I am, I offered to let him buy my
coffee and scone right then, or he could wait a full month to pay me off. Gosh,
I love to rub it in… LOL
Well, I was fairly certain I was going to win. Every few days
I would proudly declare how many days had passed since making my last list.
As luck would have it, I was in my 3rd week, and
smelling the aroma of my free coffee, when Beth announced that she had to go to
Bangor the next day. Would I like to go with her? “Sure”, I replied without
thinking, “and going tomorrow will give me time to put together a shopping
list”.
I wonder if my friend likes his coffee black, or with cream
and sugar?
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