Thank you. If you’re reading this, I want you to know that I appreciate that.
I’m thankful to see the folks at church. Singing in the choir is excellent. I attend weekly library book reviews. These might seem mundane, but after COVID, I’m not taking anything for granted.
There are lots of stories about people feeling isolated. They may be working remotely, or the busyness of life precludes them from seeing their friends and colleagues. I watched one of the morning news anchors pledge to see a friend once weekly because she doesn’t see her buds nearly enough. One needs to be intentional about these things, if at all possible.
I’m happy that I seem still curious about some things I don’t know about. At the same time, I can appreciate whatever small victories I’ve achieved in life without becoming that guy in the Springsteen song Glory Days.
Discovering and often rediscovering music I play on my CD player continues to bring extraordinary joy beyond what I can coherently describe.
I’m thankful I saw many movies, concerts, and theatrical performances this year. I didn’t mention that my wife and I saw Tennesssee Williams’ Glass Menagerie at the Bridge Street Theatre in Catskill, NY, in early October. The Times Union review headline called it “shatteringly good.”
Thanks to those I’ve loved who have passed on. Particularly the one who shared a birthday with Frank Sinatra, Dionne Warwick, Sheila E., and Dan Baird. I doubt she knew who the latter two were, but she hated Sinatra, probably for that Rat Pack vibe. Somehow, I never realized until recently that she and Dionne Warwick, who was OK in her book, were born on the very same day.
Thanks to my blogger buddies, especially the Kiwi and the Bison, and condolences again to the latter upon the death of his mother. Also, thanks to my terrestrial friends, acquaintances, sisters, favorite daughter, and wife.
That is all. Well, except for some Sly. I need to prepare to eat some turkey. Happy Thanksgiving.