Thanksgiving!

Dear Dad,

It's almost Thanksgiving. We lost Christmas to the corporations years ago, Valentines day is either depressing or extortion depending on your relationship status, the 4th is fun but can get a little jingoistic at times, Easter is on a Sunday (What! no day off!), Memorial day gets sadder every year as we continue to add to the reason for Memorial Day (Out of Afghanistan by 2015!), and Labor day is officially and only the last day of summer( move along people, nothing to see here). Thanksgiving is the real deal though. There's sports and cooking and family and religion and history and eating and pie. It's the only holiday that comes with pie. I love pie! Mmmm pie. Remember Mom's pumpkin pies? Mmmm pie!

I'm in a bit of a quandary this year. I just don't feel that thankful for things. Not the way I have in the past. The weird thing is I don't really have anything to complain about. Well, other than my height, my weight, my social status, my finances, my love life, my age, my job, and my perception of the human race I have nothing to complain about. Still I'm wicked handsome in a chubby bald way, I'm wicked smart as long as you don't keep score by success or achievement, and I can buy as much ice cream as I want. Mmmm ice cream! So life's not perfect, so what! I was raised a Red Sox fan back when being a Red Sox fan was both a calling and a cross to bare. Now they have a couple of championships under their belts and they're just another bunch of overpaid jackoffs. I have 35 years of exquisite failure under my belt.

I was about to say that you must know what I'm talking about but you were a Cubs fan. 35 years of a crap team losing and then losing some more. Red Sox fans got to almost win year after year. Always good, sometimes great, but unfortunately not great enough. What better way to learn about life in America than to root for a team that is always... just... reaching... for... the... brass...

No! It's Bucky F@#king Dent!

So I'm not bumming on the thanks part of Thanksgiving because life doesn't always go well. Not going well is unfortunately an integral part of life. I think I'm bumming on the thanks part of Thanksgiving because I'm being a wussy boy and I'm refusing to roll with reality. Because the reality of life is also the fact that while you don't always win sometimes you get...

Fair Ball! Fair Ball! Fisk homers! Red Sox win!

We didn't even win that series but that homer is still one of the greatest sports moments ever. I know I'll remember it long after the latest world series wins jumble together is the fog of time. We don't give thanks for winning do we? We give thanks for great moments. We give thanks for the special stuff that just doesn't happen that often. We give thanks for the things that are important to us. Boston teams have played in 27 championship series since 1966 which is when I was first old enough to pay attention. They have won 16 times yet the things that stay with me are...

No! It's Aaron F@#king Boone!

I know Pop, maybe I am a bit of a cups half full guy, maybe I'd be even more thankful for things if I had been a Cubs fan. Then I'd be doing back flips for the victories instead of philosophizing about the misses. Maybe. Still, most of it is misses isn't it? Even the Yankees lose in the end more often than they win.

Mom still misses you. She hasn't cooked a Thanksgiving dinner since you died. I think Thanksgiving is extra tough on her because it was your favorite. This year is extra bad. Your granddaughter tried to commit suicide last friday. Thankfully she's all right if in a lot of pain. I don't think Mom understands, she probably can't imagine anything being more painful than losing you ( I tend to agree), but she doesn't understand how lost modern kids wallowing in modern culture can be. Obsessed with material things but never really having to earn them, sold on the idea that you shouldn't have to be uncomfortable ever, and sheltered from the real world by the endless supply of media available to stave off any actual thinking they just aren't ready when reality rears its' ugly head. Maybe we should have all been Red Sox fans.

No! It's Bill F@#king Buckner!

I wish you could talk to her Dad. You always had a talent for distilling things down to the basic gist, perhaps essence is a better word, of what people were feeling. I would just sound like a clueless adult if I tried. Hope things are good where you are (No, don't tell me. I'll find out eventually). I'm still plugging, and I guess still thankful, I just wish I could pass that on to the people that need it.