Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving !!!!!

So here it is Thanksgiving again....just had to share a couple of 'unconventional' Thanksgiving experiences.

About 5 years ago I spent Thanksgiving by myself, writing a poem for a poetry class I was taking at the time. The menu for the day - HOT DOGS!!!! Now some might think this was kind of sad, but I choose to think it was a pretty cool thing to do. I call it my Anti-Thanksgiving. I think my need for at least one Anti-Thanksgiving in my life stemmed from my Weirdest Thanksgiving.

The Weirdest Thanksgiving was the first one I spent away from home partaking of other peoples' traditions. I was spending the weekend with College Fiance's family (he was also known as Fiance Number Two, sandwiched between High School Fiance and Grad School Fiance. By the way Grad School Fiance eventually became Husband and then Ex-Husband).

Prior to this, Thanksgiving had been a rather innocuous time, Macy's parade on TV, turkey dinner, etc. But this particular T-giving I spent the previous month dealing with my mother who was appalled that I would choose to spend a holiday, any holiday including Groundhog Day, with a family other than my own. So by the time we made the trek from Massachusetts to Connecticut I was already feeling guilty and depressed. By the time the weekend was over, culminating in a 5 hour Greyhound bus ride that included caged chickens, the depression had lifted and I had a whole new perspective on Thanksgiving - it took me years to get over it.

Now a bit of background on College Fiance's family:

Mother: Junior League Wannabe. Believed that putting antibiotic ointment up one's nose on a regular basis was a guarantee against any and all forms of disease. Believed she was rich (she was not). Appalled that her parent's idea of a fun night out was a visit to Arthur Treacher's Fish and Chips and not the newest gourmet restaurant.

Stepfather: Edgar Cayce devotee. Spent most of his time in the basement staring into a crystal ball and target shooting with an air pistol.

Grandparents: Nice, normal people and if they enjoyed Arthur Treacher's their daughter should have left them alone.

Aunt and Uncle: Stepford-nice, if a little quirky, people named Tom and Gerri (kind of funny). Gerri was not quite as striving as her sister, College Fiance's Mother, but still didn't like the Arthur Treacher business.

That particular year College Fiance's Mother determined that there was to be no tryptophan dozing in front of football after dinner. Thanksgiving would not simply nourish our bodies but our minds as well. After dinner, we all gathered in the living room for SEMINARS. Yes, that's right, seminars, complete with handouts, flip charts and homework. Mother held forth on the wisdom of investing in mutual funds as opposed to stocks and bonds. Gerri's topic was the dangers of food storage containers - something about the plastic being made with cow or horse or goat urine that would leech into the food and slowly poison you. Each seminar ran about an hour - then the tryptophan mercifully took over......

This was the clearly the weirdest Thanksgiving I ever spent. But there was much to be thankful for: there were only two seminars and I never actually married into this freakshow so I was spared future Thanksgiving seminars. The downside is that I was permanently scarred by the experience and for years thereafter hated Thanksgiving.

I don't hate Thanksgiving anymore.....I have recovered, and in a few hours will be off to a nice, normal, seminar-free dinner experience with Spousal Equivalent's extended family. And I plan to enjoy it!!!!

Self Checkout

The other day I became one of 'those people' at the supermarket self-checkout. You know who I mean. You might even be one of them. 'Those people' about whom everyone behind them in line says 'if you don't know how to use the self check-out, don't use it!'

There were three people ahead of me in line; Apple Lady, Banana Lady, Helpful Lady, and me, who was probably later known as Magazine Lady. But I jump ahead.

Apple lady had some freakish unknown hybrid variety of apple that wasn't listed with the produce. She scrolled through the A's; 'apple, Macintosh'; 'apple, delicious'; 'apple, granny smith'. Apparently 'apple, freakish unknown hybrid variety of' was not listed. After she had scrolled through most of the rest of the alphabet,Helpful Lady stepped up and helped her find the code on the little sticker attached to the freakish unknown hybrid variety of apple and key it into the key pad. She finished up, paid in one dollar bills that she inserted carefully into the machine, bagged up her freakish apples and the rest of her items and left.

Now it was Banana Lady's turn. Now mind you, Banana Lady had been holding forth with an amazing repetoire of audible sighs and obvious eye rolls the whole time Apple Lady was completing her order. Banana Lady had 85,000 cans of catfood - in the 12 items or fewer aisle 85,000 separate cans equals one item known as cat food - and one banana. The cat food sailed through, the machine beeping and blipping cheerily, while the computerized voice repeated 'fifty-nine cents' over and over and over. It was becoming a zen-like experience. Just as I was about to reach Nirvana she finished with the cat food and it was time to ring out the banana. Banana Lady knew exactly where to look. She started scrolling through the 'Y's. This time Helpful Lady didn't let Banana Lady's frustration build. She suggested she look under 'B' for 'banana.' Not an unreasonable suggestion. But, it turns out, the picture accompanying 'bananas' was of GREEN bananas and she had a YELLOW banana. Helpful Lady managed to convince her that 'bananas' applied to BOTH green and yellow bananas and another transaction was successfully completed.

Needless to say Helpful Lady had no problems.

Then it was my turn. The milk made the machine beep and announce the price and sailed on down the belt. Same for the yogurt and the bread. I picked 'broccoli' off the produce chart, weighed it with no problem and sent it off to the bagging area. But it's the damn impulse purchase that will get you every time. While Apple Lady and Banana Lady enacted their supermarket drama in front of me, I picked up a copy of In Style magazine. It was the last item I tried to check out. Swiped it through, heard the beep, heard the machine repeat the price, set it on its way to the bagging area. Home free, or so I thought. Halfway down the belt the magazine decided to come back. 'Credit, 3.95. Please try again.' I did. Halfway down the belt, back it comes. That computerized voice was decidedly less zen-like after the 5th try. I tried to put the magazine back in the rack where I found it but the machine now insisted that I needed help with the item and would not let me finish and pay until a human showed up to press the magic reset button. I could hear the audible sighs behind me and imagine the eye-rolling. These people had been waiting through Apple Lady, Banana Lady and now, me - Magazine Lady......

Finally a human showed up, reset the machine and I finished up, paid and skulked out of there - without the magazine. To all of you behind me in line, I promise I will never try to make another impulse purchase in the self-checkout aisle again.

On Redefining Science and Auto Repair

Now that the state of Kansas has redefined science, imagine the possibilities that are now opened up to really explain absolutely everything.

In case you have been living under a rock, the old definition of ‘science’ in Kansas was "Science is the human activity of seeking natural explanations for what we observe in the world around us." According to the new definition science is "a systematic method of continuing investigation that uses observation, hypothesis testing, measurement, experimentation, logical argument and theory building to lead to more adequate explanations of natural phenomena." Now, we all know what this means. If observation, hypothesis testing and all these nice scientific-sounding words happen to point to a ‘supernatural explanation’, the supernatural now falls within the realm of science.

I think we can take this further. How about redefining auto repair? If the new way of defining science applied to auto repair, instead of paying a bazillion dollars for a mechanic to provide a ‘mechanical explanation’ of why my car won’t run, I can explore some other options to find a ‘more adequate explanation’ for my dead car.

First I called my friend the Reiki practitioner. She suggested that the car’s chi was blocked and hurried over. It was somewhat difficult to get the car on her portable massage table but she did manage to get the amethyst geode placed underneath it (to sop up the negative energy and turn it to positive energy). Then she began to run her hands up and down the length of the car about three inches from the surface. ‘Hmmmm’….she said thoughtfully, ‘I believe the chi is blocked somewhere under the hood.’ We opened the hood, she made some motions in the air that looked as if she was pulling strings of taffy out from the engine and throwing to the ground. Finally, looking exhausted, she was finished. I closed the hood and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing. Apparently blocked chi was not a more adequate explanation.

Next I called my friend the Wiccan. My car is not properly in tune with nature – well duh, a horse would be more properly in tune with nature but there are those pesky livestock zoning regulations. Not to worry though. He came right over with a little bag of herbs that he thought would make my car more amenable to nature. I thought they would make a nice cup of tea but he opened up the hood and placed the bag on the engine block, mumbled to himself and closed the hood. I turned the key again. Again, nothing.

By that time my fundamentalist Christian neighbor arrived. ‘This is most definitely a spiritual problem’, she explained. Had I considered that there might be some hidden sin in my life that was causing me to have car trouble? Gee, my ‘sins’ are pretty much right out there in the open so I really didn't think that was it. Nevertheless, she opened the hood, laid hands on the engine block and prayed for what seemed like hours. When she finished, I turned the key and guess what – a big fat nothing.

Finally I gave up and called the mechanic. A very nice tow truck driver came an took my car away, courtesy of Triple A. In an hour, the mechanic called. Turns out there was a mechanical explanation why my car didn’t run. It would be fixed in an hour. In an hour I turned up at the garage, inserted my key in the ignition, turned it and damned if it didn’t start right up.

Maybe there was no need after all to redefine auto repair.

That Little Glimmer of Hope

After the results of Tuesday's election were in I found myself experiencing a strange emotion, one that I hadn't felt in the past five years. Democratic governors were elected in New Jersey and Virginia. Eight members of the Dover, PA schoolboard who believe that Intelligent Design is science were ousted by eight candidates who believe that science is science and that, however cleverly repackaged, Intelligent Design is religion and religion is not science. Could it be that that faint, weird sense was.....hope?

For five years we have been told that the extreme religious right agenda is 'mainstream.' For five years we have been fed a steady diet of lies about WMD, Saddam/ al-Qaida connections and whatever else the neocon criminals who have taken over the government have wanted to tell us. Could it be that the voters are finally saying 'enough is enough?' It may be worth a glimmer of hope....