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Thursday, November 22, 2001

I'll have some turkey and a schooner of Bud

I was all prepared to moan and whine about my holiday situation. Admittedly, it blows. And sucks. I'm trapped in the news business and far from family and food. In a moment of protest, I didn't wear a tie to work today. What's worse, my wife and I aren't even cooking dinner tonight after work. We're headed out to any open eatery to stuff ourselves with whatever they have. I'm guessing I'll end up drinking chicken wings and eating beer. But, we'll be with friends and that's a good thing.

If you want to know what I'm missing, you can check out Brother Beaker's description at Code Orange. He's flying semi-solo through the family tradition skies. I miss those days a lot.

So that's it for the moaning. I am really a lucky guy. And rather than sit here and lament my ugly situation...I'll do what everybody should be doing today.

Why I'm lucky...and thankful...

I have a wife who almost likes getting sick when I'm sick. She does it so she can empathize with my pain. We've both been sniffling, coughing, puking mounds for the last week and a half. She surprises me by breaking out baking skills that I didn't know she had. She learns new languages and humors me when I try to remember my old French classes and try to conjugate the verb avoir. And she feels like she's been bad when she stays up late.

I have a dog...Scoop...who doesn't care when I'm sick. She doesn't care that we're not making Thanksgiving dinner tonight. As long as somebody plays fetch with her and doesn't move her off of her space in bed, she'll wag her tail and be happy.

I have two parents who try to make me feel like I never left home. Mom calls every phone I have to wish me a Happy Thanksgiving and leaves three of the same good tidings messages. When I call back, Dad gets on the phone we we talk about the Missouri Tigers fantastic win last night. It's almost like I'm rolling out of bed in southwest Missouri, smelling my mom's food, sharing a cup of joe with my dad and getting ready for the Willis Thanksgiving Marathon.

I have a brother (See Brother Beaker above)...who fills in for me when I can't be home. The extended family will be wowed by his tales from the ER. He'll fill them in on what he's doing and some of what I'm doing. Then he'll e-mail me and tell me about all the silliness I missed. I'm proud of him and his success. It's rough having a best friend who lives six states away.

And I've got a lot of good friends. Many of them read RER. They come from my childhood, my college years, and my pseudo-adult years. They keep all parts of me sane.

Now, I have to run and off and work.

Happy Thanksgiving, all. Eat a lot for me.


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