Okay. Pardon me if my grammar isn't up to par, but I'm about 6 bloody marys and 3 glasses of red wine into the day. This is my favorite day of the year, and this Thanksgiving has been another good one. God Bless America.
I'm in Sunapee, New Hampshire, at my folks place. It's my parents, me, Wife and Brother. What a mix. This week I was in contact with Brother 4 times. All e-mails. I don't think I responded to him once. One of my good friends once described my younger brother as follows: "He's exactly like you, Rich. Only louder." So this week, I received the following 4 e-mails from my brother: 1) "Hey. Bar is opening early this Thursday." 2) "Bloody marys at 10:00 a.m." 3) "Don't forget to bring some **** down with you." 4) "Gonna get ugly this year."
When it comes to my younger brother, brevity is a virtue.
Today is my favorite day of the year. Hasn't always been the case, and I'm not sure when Christmas was bumped from the top slot to #2, but I have to believe it was sometime around the time when I was told Santa Claus wasn't actually real. Today I wake up around 9:00 a.m., and Brother is bouncing around the house with my folks' new yellow lab, Riley. This dog is rediculous. Seven months old, huge, and still has the mentality of a puppy. First words out of Brother's mouth: "Are you ready?" My response of course is in the affirmative, but I'm more curious about the weather outside. It's sunny this morning, simply a drop-dead gorgeous day. I log on to weather.com and discover it is 60 degrees outside. Yeah, baby, 6-0. I can't believe it, either. So when I step outside I just want to scream at the top of my lungs. Not a cloud in the sky; absolutely beautiful. And naturally, my first move is to fill up a bucket with soap so I can wash Wife's car. (Apparently I got the anal gene from my dad. It's bad.) I couldn't have been happier this morning. Soaping up the car, squirting the dog every now and again, taking a moment here and there to harass my friends with text messages - I was in my element. I finish around 11:00 a.m., and decide to go for a run around "the bay." My folks live in a pretty sweet condo association by Lake Sunapee. If we could eliminate the Mass Holes that live here during the summer the place would be heaven. I took the dog with me. She seemed to perk up every time I would ask her, "How ya doin' sweet girl?" What a time. Smiling from ear to ear, taking it all in, thinking about everything for which I have to be thankful.
After my run I shower up and then go to the kitchen/family room where Mom and Wife are watching the Macy's Day Parade. Someone on the T.V. is singing Feliz Navidad. So what do I do? I start dancing like a complete idiot. Getting in their faces, hopping around, not a care in the world. Of course they have no idea what to say. To break the ice, I tell them, "You know today is my favorite day of the entire year, don't you?" Mom asks, "Why is that?" And I tell her, "It's the only day of the year when I can drink, eat, watch football, and act like an idiot." Wife immediately quips (and good for her, this is sharp), "How does that make today different than any other day of the year?" Not to be outdone, I quickly reply, "Because it is the one day of the year where I can get away with it." Point, Rich.
Then of course it's football time. Colts vs. Lions to get things started. My brother decides this year that instead of mixing our drinks individually as we need them, he's just going to mix an entire bloody mary pitcher. Eh boy. Hamboned by 2:00 p.m. (Didn't break the proverbial seal until 4:00 p.m. - quality.)
Dinner. Look out. Mom decides this year that after the food is served she wants to play, "Let's go around the table and say one thing we are thankful for." Seriously, Mom, you have to think these things out. So of course we force her to start. And naturally she's got nothing. "Okay," she says, "how about health? Can I be thankful for my health?" Jeezus. We harass her for a little bit, but not too harshly, because now the ball is rolling. I immediately request that we move counter-clockwise so that my brother is next in line instead of me. Wow. Just wow. Brother takes a pull of his wine, shakes his head, and says, "I don't know. I'm thankful for a lot. Can 'a lot' be something?" Everybody just loses it at the table. Dad is next, and he tells everybody that he is thankful that his family can get together on such short notice on this day with no hassles and have this time together. Nice one, Dad. Wife is next, and apparently I've been beating the political drums a little to loudly lately, so she says, "I'm thankful we can have a dinner where we don't have to talk about politics." You should have seen the blowout we had this past summer. Me, Brother, and Dad, getting down and dirty about the Iraq War. My Dad, the lifelong conservative who is now so anti-Bush and anti-Iraq War it still amazes me, versus my brother, the young neocon who essentially wants to kick ass and take names of everyone who looks at the U.S.A. cross-eyed. Classic, just classic. What I loved most was to see how Mom, Wife, and Brother's Fiance just slowly removed themselves from the scene as the 3 "men" of the family continued to pelt each other with verbal shrapnel. I gotta give props to my dad, a child of the Vietnam Era. I think he ultimately won the argument.
Anyway, I'm next. And I figure it's time to give some substance to this "what I am thankful for" merry go-round. I actually put some thought into this, and it is something I really am thankful for and appreciate more than anything. "I am thankful for my neighbors who have become our good friends," I say. "Without them, our life in Burlington would be so drastically different than what it is now." Talk about an understatement.
I always knew in the back of my mind, way back in July, 2002, as we were moving into our condo, when I saw a Phish sticker on the kitchen skylight of my neighbors' place, that something was in the air . . . Yes there was. And I thank God for that.
Dinner takes place without incident. Mom has this thing about playing Christmas tunes, and nobody bitches because it's all good. I'm pushing for Simon & Garfunkel the entire time, but politely. My reason for pushing these tunes is because it is the only music my dad and I both like. As we're clearing the dishes from the table, I finally change the CDs. Simon and Garfunkel it is.
After everyone leaves the table, it's just me and my dad, stacking dirty dishes. We're both softly singing "The Sound of Silence." He never looks at me; however, I look at him, and he is smiling as he is singing.
Yes. Today is my favorite day.
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