Nothing But Love :: golf blogger

Happy Thanksgiving!

This is one of those posts about what's happening around here ... you know what I'm talkin' 'bout ...

The turkeys are in the brine. I, again, for the 31st straight Thanksgiving avoided touching the cold, dead turkey skin and guts. I thank the turkey gods that Stacey is so understanding about this little phobia that rears its ugly head once a year ... maybe more ... like for unloading pigs for pig roasts ... and touching chicken. I can't believe she has put up with me for all these years, come to think of it.

It's going to be Stacey, Jackson, and me for dinner ... with two turkeys and the fixings, mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, homemade cranberry sauce, plus three pies, sweet potato, pumpkin, and apple, for dessert. I guess we're hoping for a flash crowd (I don't mean to make fun of Stace. Or I actually do, but she plans it this way to put a few meals away in the freezer, which is nice for cold winter weekends when it's just nice to have a turkey dinner -- defrost, heat, and serve. It's great!)

Jackal makes his now-traditional Thanksgiving Day rounds with his AA buds to those less fortunate in the inner city. He'll get up at 7, meet up with some guys, help cook, then make deliveries. He'll be home at about 3, which is when we'll sit down to eat.

I made a visit to my shrink therapist yesterday. On the way there, this old guy ... ummm, well, I suppose that I'm an old guy ... this guy was older, like way, way, way older than me ... Whew! He was very ancient, like the kind of old guy that might not be driving in the next year or so unless he moves down to Florida and gets a license. He was the kind of ancient, old guy who wore a gray houndstooth little hat with a little red feather in the band. I didn't notice what he looked like as I passed the gray Mercury Grand Marquis CL with American flags on the back window and a bumper sticker that said "America -- Love It or Leave It" on the trunk lid that he was driving. I slowed up for the police car sitting up on the left in an office building driveway, and the old guy pulled up alongside me. I looked over to my right at him, and he looked over at me. I smiled and nodded. He shook his fist at me.

I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong. I can only think that he noticed the "The Who" sticker on the back bumper of the white VW Beetle and flashed back in time, still outraged at his teenaged son's fascination with the loudest rock band in the world.

Rock on! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Posted by Bill at November 24, 2004 11:40 PM