Skip to main content

What I'm Thankful For


Thanksgiving is this week (don't panic!). Since we tend to get a little too caught up in the idea of Thanksgiving being all about the food—I'm just as bad as anyone about this—I've decided that I wanted to a column that's a little different from what I usually do in these pages. Thanksgiving is really all about taking a moment and remembering what you're thankful for. The modern world is crazy, and the more we spend invested in our phones than our interactions with each other, it's easy to forget the aspects of life that are really important. So if you'll indulge me, this week's column is going to be a list of what I'm thankful for. If you don't want to read it, that's fine. My usual fare will be here next week, but this is just something that I wanted to do.

I'm thankful for my family. I'm thankful for their support, and their love, and their care towards me. I'm thankful that I'm around to help take care of them in return. I'm thankful my parents didn't find it weird when I was seven and told them I wanted to go as Groucho Marx for Halloween. I'm thankful they didn't kill me the day I showed up and said “Hey! I just bought a pinball machine at yard sale, I need some help moving it here!”

I'm thankful for my friends. I'm thankful for the ones that live 10 miles away, and the ones that live 10,000 miles away. I'm thankful for the ones that I hold near to my heart. I'm thankful for the ones that I can text late at night when I'm having an anxiety attack, and need someone to talk to. I'm thankful for the ones who make me feel loved on the days that I don't love myself.

I'm thankful for music. I'm thankful that music is such a big part of my life, and part of who I am as a person. I'm thankful that sometimes all I need to return to normal is just an hour or two alone with a pair of headphones on.

I'm thankful for those moments when you're not even trying to appreciate the beauty of the world, and then you catch yourself driving home and seeing the most amazing sky at sunset. We rush all day long, and it's easy to forget to just take a moment and enjoy what we see.

I'm thankful that I don't feel a need to keep up with the Jones. What I mean by this is that I'm happy I don't feel like I have to shape who I am to fit in with everyone else. I've crafted my own wonderful world to live in, and I've found it to be a lot more colorful and fun than the one everybody else seems to fit into.

I'm thankful for movies. Movies have given me a great place to go to on days when I felt at my absolute worst. Movies do indeed have a form of magic that they can spell, and when the right movie hits you at the right time, it's a transcendent feeling. Next time you're having a terrible day, watch the movie “Harvey”, and tell me you don't feel better come the following sunrise.

I'm thankful for this column, The Loafer, and you, the reader. I'm thankful that I have this place to express myself, to put humor into the world, and I'm thankful that you've been reading what I've been doing for the past seven years. It's not been perfect, and sometimes I've done things I wish I had never let see the light of day. But no one's really gotten too upset, and it is such a deep feeling of satisfaction to me knowing that people laugh at the funny ones, and I hope feel something good at the somewhat serious ones.

This is a good place to end my list. Is it everything I'm thankful for? No. I have to keep some things to myself. However I do hope that if I can leave one thought with you as we move towards Thanksgiving, and the month of December, it would be the following. We're always being told about all of the bad that goes on in the world. There is good that takes place, and sometimes you just have to look for it, or provide it yourself.

It doesn't have to be anything big, though those are good things. It can be a kind word to someone, being nicer to the person who hands you your coffee in the morning, or just try to be the type of person who doesn't make people groan after you've ended an interaction with them. With that, I wish you all a most Happy Thanksgiving.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Convincing Yourself You're Good.

I have Imposter Syndrome. Imposter Syndrome is that feeling that what you do isn't good enough, and that someone is gonna eventually figure out how woefully unqualified you are and kick you to the curb. One of the traits of my personality that I dislike is that I am way too hard on myself. Seriously, give my mind an inch and I will somehow figure out that I am the sole person responsible for the world's troubles.

Having Imposter Syndrome is kind of like playing the game Werewolf. My friends and I play a version of the game called One Night Ultimate Werewolf, in the game each player picks a card that gives them a specific role, either a villager or a werewolf, and the villagers all have distinct roles that they play on top of that--special abilities and the like. The object of the game is two fold, if you're a werewolf, you don't wanna be caught. If you're a village, you wanna catch the werewolves. Imposter Syndrome makes you feel like you're always in the role…

Where The Blues Are

I come to you again this week with another pair of blu-rays from those master celluloid handlers at Warner Archive. First up we have 1960’s “Where The Boys Are,” a defining teen picture of the era by MGM, and the film largely responsible for kicking off the whole cycle of 1960s beach films. The other is 1955’s “Pete Kelly’s Blues” a film starring, produced, and directed by Jack Webb--TV’s Joe Friday. Part of a deal Webb had made with Warner Brothers when he was setting up the original big screen version of “Dragnet” in the ‘50s. 
“Where The Boys Are” was set for the screen before the book it was based on had been released. Producer Joe Pasternak snatched up the rights to the book by Glendon Swarthout, which was originally titled “Unholy Spring.” Pasternak, strongly feeling “Where The Boys Are” would be the better title, persuaded Swarthout to change the book’s title. Pasternak also felt he could use the film as a starring vehicle for one of the stars of MGM’s record label, Connie Franc…

Twelve-Nine-Three

Picture it! Scilly, 1922! OK, actually Andy Ross’s Childhood Bedroom 1993. I had been given as a gift the dream attachment for my beloved Sega Genesis, the amazing Sega CD. For those of you young children who have only grown up in the era of XBox and Playstation, it may seem strange that there was once a time when the idea of playing a video game off of a compact disc was mind blowing. But it was, and I was fully ready to have my mind blown. To use a slogan of Sega’s ads of the era, I was ready to enter “The Next Level.”

The Sega CD model I had was the second one, the smaller model designed to go with the slimmer Genesis that had been introduced to the market. I had the first Genesis, the larger one, but the Sega CD came with an extension block that allowed it to partner it on the original model. You attached the Sega CD to your Genesis by a special connector on the side of system. The Sega CD came with a game to get you going, as was the norm with gaming systems at the time. The game …