Several members of my family, now that they're retired and need a project, have been charting our family tree. I've just had a conversation with one of them who's recently discovered that our great-great-great grandfather was a watchmaker. This is treated as if it's fascinating stuff and apparently explains why one of the current little grandsons has a fascination with Mecchano. I cooed and said how interesting and well done, as required, but I really don't care.
I have a friend who's adopted and is part of what turned out to be a huge Irish family where the predominant mood seems to have been one of misery and deprivation and escape to a better life. Famine, emigration, rape, illegitimate children given away, squalid deaths, lonely lives in the Australian outback, alcoholism, learning difficulties... I can understand wanting to know your family origins if you're adopted, but tracing new members of the family has become a bit of an obsession for her. She's now arranging meet-ups with people who are only very tangentially related. In fact she went to the US to meet one man she thought was a third cousin, only for it to turn out that he was someone who happened to share his name with the person she was looking for.
You only have to watch a few episodes of Who Do You Think You Are? to know that most of us come from very ordinary folk who've left very little mark behind. We'll never know what they were really like or what really motivated most of them. Maybe if one of my ancestors turned out to have done something heroic in the Napoleonic wars, or if one of my female relatives had been a Suffragette I'd want to find out more. But no. Apart from one branch that moved from Glasgow to London in the 19th century, all of them stayed in East Anglia or the South East all their lives and that's where they are now.
Am I the only person in the world who can't get excited about genealogy?