Who am I?????

My loyal blog readers may already know this, but for you newbies or those of you who have difficulty remembering such important things I will remind you. I don’t really know how to put this, but my family is a pretty big deal. A few years back my uncle Glen made the discovery that my mother’s side of the family was actually the founders of a the small town of Huizen in the Netherlands. Then during their immigration to the United States a clerical error changed the “I” to an “L” and they became the VanHulzen family. Some of you people with a more cynical inkling will quickly state that such facts are not true, well to you I say to stop reading now because your negativity is not needed and in fact your mind is a useless mass of pink gelatin which obviously does not function properly if it does not believe such clear factual information. Also, others will say that it is such a small town that it means nothing, and to these pessimists I would ask as to how many towns they have named after their family??? Yea that is what I though. Anyway, just let me continue with the cold hard facts of this narrative already will ya!
As we all know it is a rarity for a family of royalty such as the VanHulzen clan to marry into a family of commoners. I therefore have found it very odd for many years how my Mom and Dad came to marry, fall in love, and birth two of the most spectacular kids ever. Yes, this question has plagued my mind for years, and it has even led me to speculations of my true heritage, the confusion was tumultuous and my life was in turmoil. This problem proved to be quite the existential difficulty and I therefore set out on a quest to my homeland to solve the conundrum of my life. How were these two families united? How was such royalty allowed to unite with a family of commoners? And with the background laid I shall now reveal the tales of my journey thus far, and it is hear the story truly begins.
I entered this weekend with a small bit of sorrow in my heart as I realized I was in Europe for only a short time longer and was going to spend this weekend at home with little traveling or adventures. Yet, my sadness quickly gave way as the light of joy peered through the clouds as my wonderful Paris traveling partners Maggie and Juliet invited me along to visit a land which I had previously only thought existed in fairy tales: a land with knights, dragons, and damsels in distress. They had planned a visit to a castle, and I enthusiastically agreed to be their help and protector as we sought to climb to the tallest room of the tallest tower to meet me true love and have true loves first kiss. Yea right, like that is ever going to happen :-). Still, while I understood that my true love had long ago melted away, I eagerly accepted their invitation to visit this magical world and slay this wondrous dragon for the mere purposes of saying that I had in fact slayed a dragon. I was stoked.
I entered this adventure blindly, I had no time to prepare and had totally forgot to pack my armor and we all know that taking a sword through customs is darn near impossible, especially when they freak out about a finger nail clipper. Thus, I figured I would have to rely on my MacGyver knowledge and ingenuity, and I new this dragon was all but dead. With this plan now hatched I began to mentally prepare as I flashed through the past 16 years of MacGyver soaking in all the MacGyvernisms possible.
After leaving the train we began our hike to the isolated Castle near a remote village in the south of Holland. And soon through the trees a massive, stately structure powered into the air. The castle was in view and I was in awe. The draw bridge was already lowered and it was clear the Dragon was a little arrogant by providing me such an easily accessible entry point over the moat.

I then proceeded to scan my surroundings and purchased my ticket for entry, once again an extremely easy task which proved beyond a doubt that this dragon had clearly overlooked the security of his pad. I bribed the ticketmaster and he discretely slid me a ticket beneath the glass for entry beyond the gardens into the inner depths of the castle. It was then as my gaze scanned the paper in my hand that I realized Kasteel de Haar was printed prominently above the top of the paper. Hmmm…. That is strange, it is very similar to my own last name, but I continued on my journey figured it was merely a clever ploy attempting to divert my attention.

The girls and I quickly crossed yet another moat and descended the steep twisting staircase into the depths of the inner castle, and there we waited. It was then that a woman approached us; she quickly opened a door and filed us through as if not wanting others to see what she was doing. She then quickly handed me a paper in English. Upon it was written something greater than I had ever imagined: the history of the castle, a castle which was not just an ordinary castle, but nothing less than my very own castle! The file I held in my hand described how the castle had been destroyed and rebuilt many times, and how the Vande Haar family had restored it to its former glory in order to never allow the world to forget the wonders of its heritage. I am pretty sure it is painfully clear to all you out there that upon immigrating to America the Vande Haar name was once again changed because of a clerical error resulting from the rich Dutch accent of my ancestors. They therefore became the Vander Haar family which we all have grown to know and love today. This was too much to bear, and I could hardly keep my wits about me before it dawned on me that this too could merely be another clever ploy. The girls and I were securely escorted (guided tour) through the castle in order to protect us from the beast which roams the empty halls, and we were prevented from taking pictures (which I was very upset at especially being as it was rightfully my own family’s castle). Yet, I still had an inkling that this could not be true, and such a fact would not possibly be hidden from me all these years.
Yet, sooner than not I realized that in fact it was true, and this castle was a beautiful part of my family’s heritage. For upon entering the gardens I was shocked to see a statue in perfect representation of me?!

How could this be? How could they possibly know what I look like without ever even taking the time to let me know about my past? I didn’t know, but I just blamed it on the internet and figured that through such means they attained pictures and information because we all know that the internet is an amazing tool. Once again some of you will claim this picture is fake and that it is just me acting like a statue. Again I will ask a question too you “How could I take that picture if I was standing as that statue???” yea that is what I thought. Plus I am not nearly that good of an actor to pull of such a spectacular pose.
We continued walking the gardens and exploring my newly discovered lands. It was a truly beautiful experience, and the history I discovered was astounding. It appears that my thought that my travels in Europe would merely yield some fun stories and some typical touristy attractions were dead wrong. Instead, I was actually able to come across my family heritage and calm the existential quagmire billowing in my soul. I now know that two of the greatest families in the Netherlands combined to bring about my birth. In the end the VanHulzen family did not marry into a bunch of commoners, but true royalty with a beautiful castle to match! I will therefore no longer be going by the name Dustin Vander Haar, but instead will only answer to Prince Vander Haar III (putting numbers behind your name just makes it seem so much more significant don’t ya think?)


Oh yea, for those inquisitive readers, you are probably wondering what happened to the dragon. Well, because of my newly discovered royal blood line, he and I came to an agreement that he could live in my castle as long as he protects it while I am away. We now play poker on the first Tuesday of every month (online when I am in America).