As I await the beginning of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day broadcast (call me a sap), I’m contemplating things for which I’m thankful. And contemplating a pumpkin pie...well a slice, anyway.
Here goes:
At the risk of sounding like a pro football player who’s just won the big game, first I am thankful for the Man Upstairs. And the fact that I’m on the prettiest planet in the known universe with people I love.
My patientspouse Martha --not just because of (more saccharine stuff) love, but because she’s interesting and funny.
My kids, the dynamic duo, Bret and Bart, and their loved ones and assorted kids.
Andrea for being a solid rock for Bret and for the Great Danes, Frog and Henry, and the big black cat, George W.
Pilar for helping Bart remember that life doesn’t always have to come with a ladle of household stress.
Both boys for letting me play golf with them sometimes and for getting nearly as excited about the Macy’s Parade as I am. (One of these days we’ll take the ideal Thanksgiving vacation, kids…. If the right six numbers fall in Lotto Texas…)
Our parents -- we’ve learned from all of them.
Our dogs and cats. We’ve learned from them, too.
The way Inky the Cocker Spaniel looks at me when I’m talking to him -- if my kids had paid that much attention to what I was saying, they’d have graduated from college years ago.
The way the giant orange cat Griffin looks at me. Each morning as I take the feral cats’ food to the front porch, I hand Grif a few crumbles of the dry food. His great tail twitches and, I swear, he smiles at me. Right now he’s curled up asleep on a cardboard box next to the computer table. He’s so big he drapes over all four sides of the box!
The way Cosmo the Dog smiles. He’s a short, wide, black dog with a lab nose, chow ears, semi-basset legs -- you get the drift. His family tree is a bramble bush. But when he smiles he looks like former presidential candidate Steve Forbes. It’s a warm smile in a household, kind of eerie on the campaign trail.
Aunt Gwen in California who, I think, may be convinced that I should be an evangelist or, at least, a churchgoer. (I’m wary of innocent people being hurt when the church roof caves in.)
I’m thankful for this blog -- set up by my technospouse Martha. It is a place where, I hope, people can be helped. (Example: Yesterday I posted a note about Audrey Merritt’s charity Chrystie’s Kids needing donations of car seats and last night Audrey e-mailed me that she’d already gotten two donations. Go to yesterday’s blog items to see how you can help! More people than Audrey and I will be thankful if you do.)
I’m thankful for the 29 years I had at The Dallas Morning News (not all that thankful for the last day, but we’ll see how things work out.)
I’m thankful that I got to spend from Sept. 1965 to Oct. 27, 2004, in the newspaper business -- it was a wild, interesting ride for 39 years. I met a lot of really great, caring people. A few scoundrels, too.
I’m thankful for the goof-ups I’ve seen on TV and in real life and especially thankful that I was merely a spectator and not to blame.
I’m thankful I live in the United States where I can wise off at will without threat of a long incarceration --and now I can wise off without threat of being fired.
Oh, and let’s not overlook being thankful for the 2004 Dallas Cowboys. They’ll be helping me nap later today.
I’m thankful Buck Showalter, the Texas Rangers skipper, was named American League Manager of the Year. On the other hand, when the playoffs started, the Rangers were already enjoying their traditional extended, extra-long off-season. Just once, I’d like to see the Rangers suiting up for the last game of the Major League Baseball season -- and winning it. (Pitchers and catchers report to spring training in mid-February in Surprise, Ariz. They ought to call it “spring try-outs.”)
I’m thankful our Thanksgiving Day has begun with a sunny crispness. It’s a good day to be thankful. A good day to start building on the rest of your life.
I’m thankful there’s a mute button on our TV. Sometimes the news isn’t all that easy to take.
I’m thankful my friends have always been nicer to me than I deserve.
I’m thankful I got to see concerts with Elvis, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, Bobby Bare, Willie Nelson, Glen Campbell, Tony Bennett and Bob Luman.
I’m watching the pre-parade show, and Al Roker is interviewing Tony Shalhoub who portrays the fabulous Monk, the great TV detective. I’m thankful for that bit of entertainment.
I’m thankful I got to meet Bozo the Clown. That means I’ve met the big clown, shook hands with two presidents, interviewed senators, legislators and governors -- all sorts of politicians. Ah, clowns and politicians. Same profession, different attire.
Feel free to e-mail me at [email protected] with your thoughts. It’s a day of sharing.
