I feel sorry for the people who write blogs, sermons and cereal box trivia. At least, I feel sorry for those in those lines of work who, at this time of the year, sit stockstill at the keyboard and find it hard to put down on e-paper just what they are feeling thankful for. To quote from the eminent sage Freddie Hart, "If you can't feel it, it ain't there."
Meaning, thankfulness, for me, is not something that I have to summon up. And that's good, because I don't know that I'd have time to write all those summonses. Thanksgiving, for me, is not just a day of stuffing turkeys and Lions and Ravens and watching Matt Lauer wear a hat at a parade. I am a grateful guy for all that I have been given, which is more than I deserve, but is all appreciated.
I'm thankful for a good night of sleep, the nourishment of the food we share and the fellowship we also share while we gobble and guzzle, wool sox, pants and shirts made without a shred of the dreaded polyester, 4-wheel drive, friends old and new, family to love, Garrison Keillor, granola, Facebook, cell phones with good signals, digital music, kids, cable tv, Cal Ripken Sr and Jr, Sammy Davis Jr, Elvis, Bill Clinton, laughter, Cape May, Red Robin, Baskin-Robbins, good spelling, good grammar, beer, Bart, Beavis, Butt-Head, Stewie, old New Yorker magazines, new New Yorker magazines, LIFE magazine, punctuality, Norm MacDonald, and for the love of Peggy. And you too!
I'm a lucky man and I appreciate all the gifts I've been given. Thank you for being part of all I love.
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