Excuse Me While I Google That

How did they do it?

All of my ancestors?

I don’t mean that in a glib way.

I mean—

I was taught that humans are here

because of millions of years of evolution.

They survived not knowing how to make fire,

then learned to cook,

built shelters,

invented government...

And I’m one of them.

I’m human.

But while they were literally surviving—

life or death—

creating everything I get to use today—

electricity, running water, medicine—

Alexander the Great. Catherine the Great.

Cyrus the Great—

surely there were still people

who just... weren’t great.

Like some slave building a pyramid,

or an indentured servant

with five more years of hard labor

till freedom.

You know—those types.

Probably my people.

So how did they do it?

How did they get through

one crummy day at a time—

long enough

to eventually make me?

It had to be something like faith.

(My God. What horrors.)

Today I didn’t know something,

so I pulled out my phone,

typed it in,

and got the answer. Just like that.

My ancestors probably wondered too.

But they didn’t need it to be right.

They just made something up

and moved on.

It didn’t have to be true.

It just had to be theirs.

Excuse me while I search

Gwyneth Paltrow's age.
I just need to know.