So...how’d it go? Anybody get in screaming matches about TrumpCo? Mashed potatoes remashed against the glass of family portraits that were hung in a tidier time? I wonder how many people gave thanks for their orange messiah, hearing the voice of salvation in what sounds to me like the scream of a descending warhead.
But the fact remains that in most of the world the falling warheads are only metaphoric, and I’ll give thanks for that every day it’s true. And acknowledge the species-shame of the places where it’s not, watching for and thinking of ways to expand our decency to all. And it’s not an answer, but let’s take a moment, a swirl of tea steam and a scratch on the dog, to send empathy and love and peaceful intentions to Syria and all the other places our tax dollars and global structure are killing people.
Man it’s hard to say a complete thought and keep it positive. It’s like trying to sing with a cold coming on, starts up fine but keeps ending in a splattered ball of phlegm.
Speaking of lunch, we’re having it together today, a large portion of my family and I. Not all, siblings and an uncle are missed, candles for the ancestors, but I will happily see the ones I can. And stuffing is as good as I remember it.
Stuffing, that would be a rather cakey mush if we ate it more often, but in its alternation it retains its savory dignity. And dangit, guess who’s headed for another Trump Darkness metaphor? It was an accident, I swear! But maybe hope and progress shine brighter after we’ve looked in the face of quotidian despicability in the same way that stuffing is best after months of Something Else. Fine, it’s sloppy, but you see what I’m getting at.
Did I mention how much I love cranberry sauce? And peace? And hope and optimism? And the chance to meet the refugees, the kind people whose caricatures might otherwise seem scary? And the smiles of friends as we tie in to ropes, buy each other beers, or watch the puppy play? Friends are volunteering, driving to Standing Rock, donating to causes any soul must adore. Dogs laugh through smiles and birdsong is still a song. It’s all just so good. Even when it sucks.
And at the end of the day, when the faceless buzz of People seem so sinister, I can sit back and savor that I only actually know a couple assholes. That’s fantastic! So many good people, any and all of which deserve love and affection. Even the jackwad who climbs with his bluetooth in and only wants to insult Hillary. Even that buttnugget.
And then this blogosphere thing. A place that sometimes has absolutely terrible taste, but is a sort of e-mud with gold nuggets richly scattered throughout. And when I see your familiar title show up in a post, a ‘like’, a comment, it will be be just one more thing for which to be grateful.
I have nothing new to say about Black Friday, so I’ll just hold on to this Thanksgiving idea. Let’s try 365 days straight, shall we? Happy endless Thanksgiving, my friends!
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