Wind from the North fuels my anxiety about changing weather patterns that will leave us cold and dampen the holiday’s pleasures. Are we prepared to shiver and shake as we prepare our turkey and the desserts that we bake? Do we need a feast at all? As a nation, we’ve become so obese that paying for weight loss is now in the country’s best interest. The turkey is fine, but the potatoes and casseroles are not. Already, we plan for excess, making sure to mend our ‘fat pants’ after sutures burst at their last outing.
Perhaps we would do well to honor the day with less. Such suggestions are treated as though they are treason. Today, I plan for more pies than we need, more food than we can consume, and more dishes than anyone wants to wash. Tomorrow, we cook for one feast is not enough. There will be two, though not everyone participates in the second. We’ll stream the parades and the football between bites of stuffing and yams. Then, we’ll sleep.
First, we must have the party before the feast. The child who does not like having his picture taken turns 16 today. The wild little boy who liked to play on the roof of the house has become the young man who plays the violin, creates new worlds for his friends, and sings in Japanese while playing a game. His math skills are exemplary. He would find a better way to organize the air if asked. There are no leftovers when he cooks. For all the days he tested our patience, he has repaid us with smiles and sarcasm, compassion and comedy, thoughtfulness and thoroughness. We may not be giving him a perfect world, but he is determined to bend this world to his will. Happy Birthday, G!
When war yields diseases that we do not understand and are unable to cure, perhaps it’s time we just stop everything. No more bombing, no more feasts, no more domination, no more parties. No one has any excuse. Those who only exist so that they may hate others have no reason to celebrate. Why would we include them in our revelry? Those whose religion gives them a reason to hate have no prayer of achieving forgiveness. What are we expecting?
If this country was indeed founded on the sinful smugness of spiritual superiority then what is the basis for our thanks? Are we thankful for the genocide we inflicted on indigenous peoples? Are we thankful that our economy continues to keep people enslaved? Are we thankful that we’ve given hate a political party all its own?
Perhaps, when all is done, we should be thankful that history is not likely to remember us at all. This time, this age exists as nothing more than an embarrassment to humanity, a bad story that those ten generations removed will have no reason to remember.
Wind from the North fuels my anxiety about changing weather patterns that will leave us cold and dampen the holiday’s pleasures. Are we prepared to shiver and shake as we prepare our turkey and the desserts that we bake? Do we need a feast at all? As a nation, we’ve become so obese that paying for weight loss is now in the country’s best interest. The turkey is fine, but the potatoes and casseroles are not. Already, we plan for excess, making sure to mend our ‘fat pants’ after sutures burst at their last outing.
Perhaps we would do well to honor the day with less. Such suggestions are treated as though they are treason. Today, I plan for more pies than we need, more food than we can consume, and more dishes than anyone wants to wash. Tomorrow, we cook for one feast is not enough. There will be two, though not everyone participates in the second. We’ll stream the parades and the football between bites of stuffing and yams. Then, we’ll sleep.
First, we must have the party before the feast. The child who does not like having his picture taken turns 16 today. The wild little boy who liked to play on the roof of the house has become the young man who plays the violin, creates new worlds for his friends, and sings in Japanese while playing a game. His math skills are exemplary. He would find a better way to organize the air if asked. There are no leftovers when he cooks. For all the days he tested our patience, he has repaid us with smiles and sarcasm, compassion and comedy, thoughtfulness and thoroughness. We may not be giving him a perfect world, but he is determined to bend this world to his will. Happy Birthday, G!
I’ve looked all around me, the news and the headlines, and found nothing that necessarily inspires me to be inspiring. Too many people are busy being disappointing. There are no genuinely new revelations here. Companies run by old white people who inherited their wealth still behave like slave owners. No one is surprised and their profits continue unhindered. The best thing we do is reduce the number of children introduced into this mess we have created. Those who spare innocent lives by not creating them in the first place may be those who have the most gratefulness in their lives.
When war yields diseases that we do not understand and are unable to cure, perhaps it’s time we just stop everything. No more bombing, no more feasts, no more domination, no more parties. No one has any excuse. Those who only exist so that they may hate others have no reason to celebrate. Why would we include them in our revelry? Those whose religion gives them a reason to hate have no prayer of achieving forgiveness. What are we expecting?
If this country was indeed founded on the sinful smugness of spiritual superiority then what is the basis for our thanks? Are we thankful for the genocide we inflicted on indigenous peoples? Are we thankful that our economy continues to keep people enslaved? Are we thankful that we’ve given hate a political party all its own?
Perhaps, when all is done, we should be thankful that history is not likely to remember us at all. This time, this age exists as nothing more than an embarrassment to humanity, a bad story that those ten generations removed will have no reason to remember.
Our only hope is to replace hate with love.
One turkey dinner is not enough.
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