No Thanks To You

I want to express my thanks for many things, but I won’t, because it only leads to trouble.

Naturally, I am thankful for my wife who has stayed with me for over 30 years. I am thankful for my daughter who can brighten my day with a simple text message or im. I am thankful for my sister and my niece. I am thankful for my friend, Marshall. And also for my other friends. Nevertheless, I am not going to write that I am thankful for any of these people because this is where it starts to get tricky.

“Why didn’t you mention some specific reason you are thankful for me,” my sister might ask.
“Why didn’t he mention me? I’m his friend too,” Marshall’s wife will wonder, “and what about our kids? I thought he liked them.”
It begins to feel like planning a party:
“If we are thankful for the Smith’s, we have to be thankful for the Hendersons. And the Scotts were thankful for us on their blog, so don’t leave them out.”
“What about MY family,” my devoted wife will ask, aren’t you thankful for them?”

Which brings up the other problem. I like to communicate clearly and precisely. When I say I am thankful for my wife, I fear it implies that that encompasses the totality of her existence. Perhaps I need to state some specific negative thing about her just so it is understood that there is a balance. I mean, for example, I am not thankful for her talking to me – at certain times.

Now if I list everyone I am thankful for, and why, plus at least one qualifier, I will be writing forever.

Maybe I should just say the things I am thankful for, like pie and beer. But there are so many things: warm sunny days, the beach, Andie MacDowell and so on. Again, the list is too long to include it all here.

I think I will pick just one thing. I am thankful for humor.
I am thankful for being able to be amused by and laugh at the things I am not thankful for.
“Just humor? What about me?” asks Comedy.
“Don’t forget your old pal, Parody.”
“Don’t confuse me with him,” chimes in Satire.
“Who would have thought that you would overlook me?” smirks Irony.

Never mind. But, hey, I am thankful for you reading this.

What Would Squanto Do?

I was pretty cavalier in my post about the global climate change leading to the end of the world as we know it. Today I read of a shocking and sobering development that has brought the extent of the destruction into focus and chilled me to my soul.

“Heavy rains in Midwest lead to pumpkin shortage”. "Our calculations indicate that we may deplete our inventory of canned Libby's pumpkin as we approach the Thanksgiving holiday” which means NO PUMPKIN PIE!

Some people won’t care. They’ll just put an apple pie on the Thanksgiving table and expect everyone to be thrilled with the novelty of it all. Yes, there are people who tire of the familiar and are bored with the same foods appearing on the table every Thanksgiving. I imagine these same people tire of the sun coming up every morning. “Oh, yawn. I awake again, breathing and alive, day after day. I wish it were not always so.”

My wife’s own mother once wanted to shake things up a little one year and not have sweet potato casserole. Did she not understand why they call it “tradition”? Did she learn nothing from “Fiddler on the roof?” No sweet potato casserole? My wife fainted, I shouted, my daughter cried. We all went to counseling and when the therapist suggested maybe we shouldn’t visit them anymore, my mother-in-law relented. Had it been pumpkin pie that was in question, I would never have forgiven her.

There were warning signs of disaster in the news. There is a weather related shortage of Eggo waffles. Upon learning of that I should have turned off the mulching mower and manually raked the leaves. I should have started biking to work and eating locally grown foods, like, say, goetta.

Now it is too late. I wish I had heeded this poem

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for my pie — and I killed the bastards.

The Absolute Creepiest Thanksgiving Image Ever