11-24-11 Thanksgiving in Pictures 2011

11-24-11 Thanksgivings Past

Where are all the pictures of childhood Thanksgivings? I have exactly one picture that pre-dates me:

I can spot the decimated turkey, half empty stuffing bowl, and sweet potatoes. This was Me-Maw at left, my grandaddy Saltsman at center, my my aunt Laverne to his right. Everyone wore Sunday clothes.

For the longest time Thanksgiving was held at Me-Maw's house in Mexia. Me-Maw would get up at something like 3:00 in the morning to get the turkey on at the right time for lunch (called dinner in the South, while the later meal is called supper). As a kid, of course, the only highlight of the morning was the Thanksgiving Day parades -- the Foley's one out of Houston and Macy's from New York. The highlight was always the Snoopy balloon. And they didn't keep pausing the parade for the millionth lip-synced Broadway or pop number back then. The Rockettes were about it.

Then they turned on football and I tuned out.

Mostly I remember being bored, going out alone into the backyard with nothing to do and the endless wait while the bustle in the kitchen continued and I was in the way.

Until, finally, I was put to work setting things on the table, which was laid out in its Sunday best, china, polished silver, cloth napkins. There was never a need for a kids table that I recall, because I was the only kid. (My two cousins were a decade older.) It certainly wasn't my favorite holiday.

Older now, and a little more intimate with the concept of gratitude and family, it's one of the few times we can gather together under one roof and be thankful that, for at least another year, we are together.

And there's still the Snoopy balloon...

11-23-11 Bruiser goes to Texas

We made it on the road at 7:30, Sammi and I carting Bruiser and Evan, Bob, Nick, and Katy in the Jeep.

Bru did not find the cat carrier an acceptable form of travel. The caterwauling commenced in earnest.

The skies were gorgeous the whole way. Sammi took this one of Pike's Peak.

And then Sam relented and let Bruiser out. His first order of business was to get into the floorboard and squash the crap out of the Krispy Kremes.

He also helped navigate, all the while keeping up the caterwauling, although after about 2 hours,  he finally decided it wasn't getting him anywhere and spend the next four hours riding along quietly.

Stopped for gas in Trinidad before hitting Raton Pass and New Mexico.

The basic directions from one Mask house to the other is this: drive south and turn left in Raton. After that left turn, it's one loooooonnnnggggggg stretch through the upper right corner of New Mexico. Sammi took the wheel and I snapped pictures.

Arrival to Dumas: 2:00 Colorado time (so I'll be an hour behind the rest of this week). Nap time: 2:30-4:00. :) Let Thanksgiving begin.

11-23-11 Bru and the Lamp

In the dark I heard "nom nom" sounds, so I reached over to turn the lamp on to find this:

His stoic poker face held out for about 30 seconds, as though I'd imagined the nom-noms. Then, he couldn't help himself.

No wonder bits of leaves litter my floor. Then, since the smaller vines wiggle so suggestively, he started batting at them, which led to this moment. And since the vines were so wrapped around the lamp, it pulled just about everything you see on the table to the floor with it. Bruiser was out the room by the time it was half way down. Coward.

11-23-11 road trip fever

I just popped awake this morning at 4:15 and I knew, the way you know about a good melon, that I wasn't going back to sleep. (Can you name that obscure reference?)

There is something different about the pre-dawn when I'm hitting the road. Even the lamp light on the street looks different out the darkened windows.

When I was little and the long road led through Texas to Oklahoma, I wasn't nearly as bright-eyed at the 4:00 wake up, but I do recall how the the lone light here and there through the house changed the shape of everything. I'm sure it was because as soon as Mom and Dad saw us (me and my grandparents) off, they wanted to crawl back in bed. So only the bathroom light would be on when Mom rubbed my back to wake me up, just enough to zombie walk out to the backseat of the Oldsmobile, where I would curl up with my little pillow and blanket and stuffed animals, and get kisses goodbye, and watch from the rear window as my parents got smaller in the distance from the driveway, waving from the kitchen window. It wouldn't take very long for me to drowse back off, but I remember, lying across the dark red velour upholstered seat, looking up out the windows at Houston whizzing by in the dark, how the lights of the city looked.

My stirring has roused three of the five animals who've rallied around the lone light of the laptop this morning, Evan at my feet, Fisher on my lap, Bruiser in the chair nearby. Faith and Katy remain asleep with Sam downstairs for another hour. I'm thinking coffee-making and a shower are in order soon, but for just a little while longer I'm basking in the lone lights, inside and on the quiet street, listening to cat purrs, snuggling under a blanket, hearing the call of the open road.

11-20-11 Xmas Offense

I posted the above to Facebook earlier this week (click to enlarge). It elicited a lot of very friendly responses and there was peace and goodwill towards man all around. This, of course, is to be expected, because when someone posts something you disagree with, unless you're just in a particularly foul mood or tend to go trolling for trouble (which I am about to do), you move on and let them have their opinions while you have yours.

HOWEVER>...

While I was getting in the Christmas mood this weekend, I realized a lot of other people were kind of doing the opposite, at least in the way the tone of their posts came across.

Their idea of celebrating Christmas is apparently to tell anyone who is not Christian that they don't matter, this is OUR holiday, and go take their heathen selves on a long walk off a short pier. Because, you know, as Christians this must be a sure-fire way to win non-Christians over: rally around a false cause, mock any one who disagrees with them, and generally take the goodwill-toward-men-o-meter down a few notches every time they open their mouths.

Here, collected in the space of about a day, some 5 weeks before the traditional date of Christ's birth that didn't happen in December and in a holy season that goes back millennia before his non-birth-date, are some sample posts:

Note these are all just variations on a theme, but it is fun to watch the game of telephone played out in reposting.

I'm still on the lookout for the first person to post the obligatory "Xmas is crossing Christ out of Christmas!! Share or go to hell!"  ... A quick Google search seemed, at first hit, to indicate perhaps that movement is played out and enough people finally figured out how stupid this made them look:

But, alas, a front page listing on Facebook searching "xmas and Christ" yielded splinter groups of said stupidity:

Second only to "Crossing Christ out of Christmas" in your group title is apparently the requirement that you must possess an appalling lack of grammar.

Please note: I am completely aware that I am engaging in similar un-Christian behavior here. Let's just skip the "yeah, so are you" fallacy and I'll own up to my shortcomings.

Note the rebel group at the bottom, poor saps. At least there's 36 of them and only 9 of the Hell Cat group...

Just to go on record, I plan to have a very merry Christmas and a whole lot of Happy Holidays to boot and I am no less of a Christian if I don't tell those people next door with the menorah that they should shove it were the sun don't shine because it's MY holiday, pretty much from now until New Year's.

You know, for it being the last bastion of holidays that celebrate Christ, at least we picked a nice long one, huh?

Perhaps I should suggest Catholicism to those Protestants feeling slighted by the lack of holy days they're getting screwed out of. At last count, just the days of obligation alone can keep you pretty busy.

C'mon.

If you follow Christ, the miracle of God among us has nothing to do with one month or the other, one holy day or another, one phrase of greeting or another.

It does, however, have everything to do with how we treat our fellow man, how we, as much as possible, as much as it up to us, keep peace with all men (Romans 12).  . .  (oh, and love them (gasp) . . . that seemed pretty important to Jesus, since He seemed to mention it just a few more times than His commands on how to celebrate his birthday.)  Paul, of course, took the opportunity at one point to use the altar of the Unknown God to call attention to his Christ but didn't exactly threaten to knock it down or jump all over it, ala Daffy Duck, proclaiming MINE, MINE, MINE! when most of the people did not immediately believe.

I'll keep collecting these "MINE MINE MINE" moments from Facebook, if only to remind myself why Bara Dada (not Ghandi, by the way, although I'd bet he'd second the motion) so beautifully remarked, "Your Jesus is ideal and wonderful. But you Christians -- you are not like Him."

kyrie eleison, indeed.

11-21-11 The 32 Rules of Thanksgiving Touch Football by Jason Gay

Thanks to Jason Gay, article published here, I am contemplating starting a new tradition on Thursday. We'll see if its just me, Nick, and the dogs in the backyard...

and in case you don't want to follow the link... 

Thanksgiving is Thursday and there's no avoiding it—make the drive, eat the turkey, pass the cranberry goo, and try not to say something you regret. If you can survive until dessert without crying at the table or sticking a fork in someone's arm, you're home free—just inhale the pecan pie, hit the couch, and pass out watching the NFL.

But for the love of Lombardi, go outside and play some Thanksgiving touch football. It's a perfect opportunity for family bonding, or at least calorie-burning. Unless you're in a fraternity or live inside a Tommy Hilfiger commercial, you probably play touch football only once a year, and Thanksgiving is that day.

Here are the official rules of Thanksgiving Family Touch Football:

1. If you have a healthy relationship with your family and speak to them all the time, you're playing touch. If you see your family only once a year, it's tackle.

2. Find a nice patch of grass. It doesn't have to be big. You don't need a regulation 100 yards. Half the people in your family, if they ran 100 yards, they'd wind up in the hospital for a month.

3. The game must be played before dinner. Nobody wants to play football after Thanksgiving. Nobody wants to wear pants after Thanksgiving.

4. All family on the field! Everyone plays. Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, Cousin Jake, and Regis the one-eyed Jack Russell terrier. Don't laugh. Regis is the best receiver you've got.

5. The following things are prohibited from Thanksgiving touch football: spikes, eye black, sticky gloves, Jets jerseys, running with a martini glass and a lit cigar, Norv Turner.

6. A Nerf ball is okay but you should own a leather football. A leather football is one of the things every home must have, like a dishwasher and a bourbon distillery in the garage.

7. No footballs with wings or propellers or tails or streamers. Here's a good rule: If the football would make Dick Butkus throw up, don't use it.

8. It's two-hand touch. One-hand touch is for lazy people who buy turkey sandwiches out of vending machines.

9. Two completions is a first down. Not as simple as it sounds—just ask the 2011 Indianapolis Colts.

10. No taunting, cursing or back-handed compliments. That's what Thanksgiving dinner is for.

11. Unless you live in California, Hawaii or Florida or some fancy place like that, the ground is probably going to be squishy with cold mud, and someone in your family is going to fall down face-first and ruin his or her Thanksgiving outfit. This is not cause for alarm. This is the highlight of the game.

12. It's okay to play with kids but don't baby them. Just because your 7-year-old niece is playing quarterback doesn't mean you can't intercept her screen pass and run it back for a touchdown. She's got to learn sometime not to throw into triple coverage.

13. The count is five "Mississippi." And it's a full four syllables—not a rushed "MISS-IPPI" and knocking grandpa to the ground.

14. But if you are old enough to have grandchildren, and you sack the quarterback, and do an elaborate sack dance, you will be worshipped forever.

15. Keep the Tebowing to a minimum. The fad is already old.

16. No, you don't get to be "permanent QB." Not if you want anybody to like you.

17. No show-off football lingo. No screaming "trips left" or "zone blitz." Uncle Dale doesn't want to play the "nickel package." He wants to get this stupid game over with, have a vodka and stand in the kitchen eating stuffing with his hands.

18. But there's always one control freak who wants to diagram elaborate plays. Just listen to whatever they say, and forget it immediately.

19. There are only two plays you need for touch football: "Everybody Go Out" and "Everybody Go Deep."

20. No, that running play never works. Ever.

21. Don't throw the ball too hard. This is the mistake a lot of touch football QBs make. They see an opening, and they chuck it 99 mph like John Elway, and peg Aunt Frances in the neck.

22. A little pass interference never hurt anyone. Don't be a wimp.

23. If you throw six interceptions in a row, let someone else play quarterback, or sign with the Washington Redskins.

24. Three-minute halftime. Don't kill the momentum. Anything longer, and aging muscles seize up. Remember: if Daddy sits, Daddy is d-o-n-e.

25. If you're playing on a city street, please don't dent the blue Honda, or I will find you.

26. If you're a random guest at Thanksgiving, it's your job to be good at touch football. Lie and say you "played a little" at Alabama and pray you don't completely embarrass yourself.

27. If you find yourself surrounded by middle-aged men in blue jeans and a quarterback who keeps getting picked off, you're not with your family. You've accidentally walked into a Brett Favre Wrangler spot.

28. Punting is okay, but it's hard. You know that weird fact about how hippopotamuses kill more people than lions or tigers? Well, punts are the hippopotamuses of touch football. Botched punts break more windows and hit more cars than any other play in the game. You can look it up. Be careful.

29. Goes without saying, but if it snows, it's a classic.

30. Take it easy. You don't want any injuries that can't be treated with a bag of frozen peas.

31. If you win your game and stand undefeated, please let LSU know you're available to play in the BCS championship.

32. When you think about it, there's really only one rule for Thanksgiving touch football: Take your shoes off before going in the house, or Mom is going to kill you.