My dad had always told me we were related to Al Gore and Gore Vidal and of course I knew who the former was but never really bothered to read much about the latter.Ā His first name comes from the family name of his mother.
I started getting into genealogy and came upon an essay by Vidal that had been published in The New York Review of Books called The Ruins of Washington where he writes about our shared Anglo-Irish ancestors who came over in the 17th century and owned a large portion of the land that would become Washington, D.C.Ā Ā Our ancestors sold the land and as the families branched off they migrated further and further south ultimately ending up in Mississippi.Ā Ā
My grandfather was best friends with Goreās uncle and my dad grew up with Goreās first cousins, so though the cousinage between us is distant on paper, the kinship bond and shared culture was still there.
I was so excited to see what else Gore Vidal had written about our family that I downloaded his essay collection The Last Empire, where he writes:
āBut then the Gore genes are strong, making for large noses and ears and, in many, chinoiserie-style eyes, more gray than blue. Blake certainly had inherited the Gore sharpness of tongue ā¦Ā Ā If there is an uncomfortable truth to be told, at least one Gore can always be counted on to bear sardonic wit-ness.ā
āThey are also known for their forensic skill, wit, learningā family characteristics the Vice President modestly kept under wraps for fear of frightening the folks at large.ā
Which is an eerily accurate and specific description of me.Ā Ā As I read more of the essays in this book, I began to realize Gore Vidal was right about literally everything in the world and that his quote in my bio is true.Ā Ā He was so much more than heās known for in pop culture.
As I devoured as much of his work as I could, especially his non-fiction writing, I developed a deep parasocial connection with him and found in him a kindred spirit. Ā Beneath his prickly acerbic exterior was a profoundly vulnerable and emotionally wounded man with mommy issues from his BPD mother.Ā Ā I love his fiercely anti-institutional autodidactic spirit.Ā Ā Heās my role model and I think we also look alike and have similar cunty arrogant vibes/minds.
In The Last Empire he writes that the Gore family will selectively pick and choose who to claim as family no matter how distant the relation is.Ā Ā I delusionally believe that if he were somehow alive todayāand also not ravaged with wet braināas a deep personal mythos weaver himself who had once found meaning in his own family story, he would be honored that I feel this way about him.Ā Ā Thank you if you read this rather lengthy volume of Tater Hole lore š„š³ļø
+3
Apr 5, 2024
Related Recs
My grandpa was best friends with her brother because they were distant cousins. I wish I could have picked my own grandfatherās mind for any gossip he may have had but he died when I was like 6.
But from what Gore Vidal wrote and the way she herself addressed him in public she sounds like she was the most abysmal evil cruel twisted motherā¦ just a really nasty and erratic but very complex woman. She was a flapper and notorious party girl in Washington DC when her father was a senator so I just wonder what she must have experienced to make her turn out like that. Iām really curious about her life but I havenāt found a lot of information out thereā¦
Jan 26, 2025
š
Why do they hide so much history within them? Why does that past come out in most unprompted ways? Why is the pizza line at Costco essential for me to learn my grandfather's name was Salvador, that dad was buddies with famous luchadores, or that he is casual friends with many a notable playwright?
I hope it's not the feeling that I'd be uninterested; I certainly am.
His storytelling is so casual, so carefree. Maybe he likes the old days to be the old days and his place to be in the now, and his way of keeping the past at bay is to scarcely visit it, to give nostalgia no special regard.
Perhaps he likes the chance to be mysterious, and he very much is in these moments. It's strange for there to be mystery between us, but that's unavoidable, I guess. I try not to take it as a barrier. We are mysteries even to ourselves; it's an unjustly tall order to make ourselves crystal clear for others, even our children, perhaps.
Whatever it is, I treasure each pearl of the weird history, the places he has been and the trouble he got into. He was and still is that young man just as I hope to still be who I am today, even if in bite-sized, shocking portions.
Apr 29, 2024
here are 3 of my most exciting pieces of lore:
1) my dad was in the south tower on 9/11 and he made it out, but was still in the building when the plane hit. the plane went through his office window, but he was already evacuating and on around the 40th floor when the plane hit
2) my paternal grandfather (jewish) was born in austria but his family moved to milan in ā33/34 when hitler came into power. in ā44 when the nazis occupied northern italy, his family escaped into the mountains northeast of milan near bergamo (he was about 13 or 14 years old at this point). his family helped smuggle guns to the partisans since they could speak german with an austrian accent and bypass nazi checkpoints. my grandfather had to shoot a fascist at one checkpoint going wrong, and so at 14 he joined the partisans full-on and lived with them until the war ended. i have a bunch of photos from his time with the partisans (attached some). apparently the group he was specifically with was led by this kinda crazy guy who threatened the security of the whole partisan operations, so he was actually killed by other communist partisans. a few years ago i found a man who researches this exact group in bergamo, and now i have an 80 yr old italian pen-pal who published some photos of my grandfather in his book.
3) my maternal grandfather was orphaned really young in cuba and was really poor. he met my grandmother when he saw her riding her bike down the street and instantly fell in love with her (yes, just like cinema paradiso). she was really rich and her family hated him, so he would wait outside her window just to see her. eventually they get married and have my eldest uncle (because love always perseveres). this part of the story is fuzzy, but i believe he got into some gambling issues and so my grandmothers family shipped him to the US (probably with hopes of getting rid of him for good). but he began to build a life for his family there. then the revolution happened and he continued to go back and forth, but then castro put in the policy that children born in cuba had to stay, so they moved to nyc permanently. but my grandfather loved castro, as most cubans did. so my family is not part of the typical exile cuban-american demographic, which i always found fascinating.
Feb 19, 2024
Top Recs from @taterhole
āLife shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.ā
ā AnaĆÆs Nin
This is uncharacteristically raw and personal, even for me, and pretty heavy! I know many of you have seen me posting through it and I feel safe to talk about it openly now that Iāve safely landed at the start of my new life. Itās honestly even a little bit embarrassing but I think itās important to share.
Iāve never publicly mentioned it on here, but I have a husband; as of Friday, weād have been together for 11 years, and weāve been married for 3 years as of 2/22. I realize now that I wanted to explore what I looked like outside of my relationship with him because I had lost that. This is why PI.FYI has been so meaningful to me as a space to express myself and connect with peopleāto rediscover my voice.
I had been living a lie this entire time, to others but worst of all to myself. Heās been verbally and emotionally abusive, physically but without touching me, to the point that every day I spent with him I was in danger. Iāve been shrinking myself and walking on eggshells to avoid making him insecure and provoking his casual put-downs and fits of rage, while hanging on for dear life to the threads of good I could see.
Iāve wanted so badly to leave, more than anything, but I felt like there was no way out and that this was just something I would need to endure indefinitelyābut someone who is so very dear to me helped me see that I have wings to fly, not by acting as my savior but by reminding me of my own power. The emotional safety they built and the gentle care they showed me made me feel like I could open up to them. With their encouragement I was brave enough to tell the truth to my friends, my family, my boss, and they have received me with warm, loving and open arms and rallied to support and protect me. The financial andĀ logistical aspects were the most intimidating to me and itās going to be tough for a while but Iām going to be better than okay!
Now Iām opening up to you. This isnāt the only abuse Iāve suffered in my life, and my old therapist told me she believed it was my mission to share my strength and light with others to inspire them and show them that change is possible.
I hope that by sharing this, I can reach even just one person who is going through something similar and show that they are not alone, and they are not weak. People with certain backgrounds may be more vulnerable to abuse, but it can happen to anyone. It thrives in darkness, shame, and isolationāand breaking that silence is the first step toward freedom.
Leaving is the scariest thing I have ever done but I have so many angels around me, and I am endlessly grateful. Thank you for being here with me š
Mar 16, 2025
My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebodyābe it a relative or one of my best friendsāwas to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too š
Feb 23, 2025
Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately ā
š
Feb 27, 2025