Thanksgiving is going to suck. Not only will I be spending it away from my family for the first time in my life, but at halftime of one of the afternoon football games, Nickelback is going to perform. Call me crazy, but I have zero confidence that the true meaning of the holiday can be accurately conveyed by a rock band whose most popular song (A) is nothing more than a declaration that they want to be rock stars and (B) contains the lyrics “I’ll have the quesadilla.” Who eats quesadillas on Thanksgiving?
Thanksgiving is supposed to be about selflessness and gratitude – mouth-watering selflessness and gratitude. For example, while it is shitty that I won’t be able to enjoy my mom’s out-of-this world green bean casserole or my dad’s very-much-of-this-world observations about the Kansas City Chiefs, I am thankful that at any moment I can pick up a handheld device, push a few buttons and instantly be able to communicate with either of them.
Then again, I’m just grateful that everyone in my family is, for the most part, alive and healthy. I’m also thankful for my own health, which has been so reliable over the years that I’ve often wondered if I’m unbreakable, like Bruce Willis in that movie whose title I can never remember. Unfortunately, while it wasn’t until Mr. Willis’s character bench pressed like, a thousand pounds that it fully hit him that his body was different from everyone else’s, I haven’t so much as looked at a dumbbell in over a year. In fact, I may never step foot in a gym for the rest of my life. So in order to confirm that I’m invincible, I’ve had to resort to other tactics. That’s why I act so recklessly around crosswalks and never wash my hands after interacting with someone who has the flu.
I’m getting a little sidetracked here, but that’s okay because it reminds me of the next thingy for which I’m grateful: The ability to think. For I’d no longer be human if I was denied the capacity to produce and interpret information. I’d basically be one of those life-size, sort-of-realistic-but-no-not-really sex dolls that some people have enjoyed fornicating with to such a high degree of satisfaction they’ve actually tried marrying them. Or worse, I could be some dimwitted mannequin modeling V-neck graphic tees in the entrance of an Old Navy outlet store (God forbid).
Heck, I’m just thankful for this big old rock we call Earth – because I can exist all I want but I need somewhere to hang out once I do. Without trusty Earth under my feet, I’d be floating around in outer space like a dummy. No matter how hard you look, there are no turkeys or slices of pumpkin pie out there in the cosmos. Unless of course aliens look like turkeys and have spaceships made of gigantic pumpkin pie slices – then, yes, you would see those things. Man, that would be something else, huh?
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah: Nickelback is a lousy group of musicians, and I am not looking forward to their performance at halftime of the athletic competition between the Green Bay Packers and the Miami Dolphins.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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I would eat quesadillas on Thanksgiving. Quesadillas are delicious.