Front Sight, Press

Thanksgiving morning – I swept up the dog hair from the floor and got the grill ready to start smoking a turkey breast. The kids will be coming over soon with their significant others. Lucky, the older of two German Shepherds, won’t let me out of his sight because he knows that somewhere down the line there will be lots of tasty goodies to beg for.

Taking a break from the festive preparations, I stop and scan the news: massacre in Mumbai, pirates in Somalia, terror alert on the New York transit system, economy in the dumper – you know the list. It would be easy to survey the state of things and ask, what is there to be thankful for? I’m sure a lot of people who are newly unemployed or evicted from their homes are asking that question right now.

There are more than a couple of things to feel down about, even if you still have your job and home. The Republican Party has pretty much crashed and burned in the waning years of the Bush administration. The incoming administration is a huge question mark, and more than vaguely threatening for those of us who care about our gun rights. The economy seems to teeter on the precipice of a deep recession or even depression. Millions have lost their jobs and gone into foreclosure on their homes. Terror threats seem to pop up in new places with each edition of the evening news. Natural disasters and drought have laid waste to large regions of the country. Crime ravages the major urban centers, and even the honeybees have suffered an epidemic that has drastically reduced their population and threatens agriculture. In short, I can’t remember a time in which the world has appeared more threatening and troubled.

Some people don’t even like the idea of “Thanksgiving” because it implies thanksgiving to God, and they have issues with the whole “God thing.” I don’t suffer from that particular affliction, but I know there’s a lot of it going around.

I don’t want to slip into a sermon or some maudlin “count your blessings” essay. It’s hard to count your blessings when the sheriff arrives to put your stuff on the curb and lock you out of the home in which you expected to retire. There are lots of folks in dire circumstances this day and I want to remain mindful of them. Nevertheless, with a bit of nagging guilt, I feel thankful for some things.

In no particular order…

Marian made a brunch of eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy, one of my favorite meals. I’m thankful for the thirty two years with her. I would probably be in jail by now if she weren’t around.

My new computer is a total screamer, nirvana for a “power user” geek like me. I’m thankful for the jobs that enabled me to buy it, thankful that we still have them, and pray that the economy gets over its funk real soon.

Right now, thousands of young servicemen and women are walking empty but dangerous streets or humping too much gear over a nameless mountain ridge. I’m thankful for them and the country they cared about enough to put themselves in that place.

My kids make me crazy. They sometimes get into trouble or cause problems that disrupt my otherwise orderly existence, but they have given my life meaning and a sense of purpose that I would not have had without them.

I enjoy what is perhaps the most eclectic and diverse menagerie of friends and correspondents in the world, and I can’t count the times that a message or phone call from one of you has lifted me out of a funk, or given me a fresh idea to latch onto for my next crazy quest.

I do have faith, and it is in God. I don’t feel alone in a hostile universe. That’s one thing you can feel thankful for even when everything else is going to hell in a hand basket.

It’s a beautiful day, bright sunlight and warm for late November. Thor, the younger German Shepherd is curled up and sleeping on the back porch. I scratch his ears when I go out to add apple wood chips to the fire smoking the turkey. I think I have a head cold coming on, but otherwise my health is good.

One thing I hate about the recent election is that the grand notion of hope was co-opted into a cheesy campaign slogan. Hope is more than a slogan. Tomorrow the sun will come up. There will be new mysteries to explore, new jokes, new jobs and headaches. There will be possibilities. That’s hope. The logical opposite of hope is despair, and I prefer hope to despair. Maybe I’m a bit foolish in that, but it’s my choice.

I hope this finds you well. Happy Thanksgiving.