STONED GUY WITH A SKINK ON HIS HEAD HAS BEEN PRE-EMPTED...

So we can bring you this pre - holiday special...from Depthmarker.com. SGWASOHH will return when he makes bail.

MY FAVORITE HOLIDAY

I recently posted on the consumer/guilt driven, heavily carbunckled thing that is christmas. Although my feelings have not changed about it, I still attend the festivities for the sake of Ann and proper manners to my in laws. Have you ever seen a carbunkle in it's glorious prime? Here ya go...EEEWWW! That's christmas alright.

But back to the point. My favorite holiday is Thanksgiving, and not because we fooled the indians into thinking we were worthy of being saved that hardcore winter so many years ago only later to give them the gift of smallpox laden blankets to rid ourselves of the burden of the drunken red man...Nope...not me, like everybody else, I want to gloss over that and instead focus on the chicken cordon bleu sandwich that Jack (in the box) turned our red brethren onto back in the day. Enough "comedy"...on to the post.
Thanksgiving to me is the time of year you reflect on your blessings, however large or small, and gather together with family and loved ones to share those reflections and it culminates in a gigantic meal reflective of the blessings, which everyone shares. And you're just together, there's no pressure to "give" beyond your ability to whip up a fantastic green bean cassarole and share it.
I remember the day I decided it was my favorite holiday, oddly enough it was thanksgiving, when I was the house manager at the homeless/ runaway youth shelter. I wasn't working that day, but I came in and helped cook and just hung out with the kids and staff.
When we sat down to eat, one of the kids staying at the shelter decided she wanted to say something before we ate. God, I wish I could remember her name, she was a scrawny little black girl from the east side, who had only known strife for much of her life. And here she was, sitting at the head of the table with her "holiday hair do" she had gotten the day before...some really cheesy looking extensions with christmas tree balls weaved into them. It was huge on her little frame, blue, green and red, and silver balls (the big ones) haphazardly placed in these cheesy looking braids that hung well below her boney shoulders as she spoke of her life. I don't remember what she said exactly, but it was harrowing. It ended with her saying she was thankful to be with all of us...on her first thanksgiving. She then invited everyone else to say something, and we did. Every last one of us.
Now, you have to understand this place...there were kids like her, black kids, from hard scrabble fucked up lives and from the east side, there were hispanic kids of similar background and white kids from your white trash "kenny from south park" types to the disaffected goth kids from wealthy families who had run away for ??? , but they all had something to say. As did the staff present, who were as diverse as the kids staying there. It was overwhelming.
And when the meal was over, we did what any other family did. Some of us fell asleep watching football, some of us packed up leftovers for visitors, some of us cleaned in the kitchen...just like any other family on thanksgiving.On that day, we were a family, thanks to a little girl with christmas balls in her hair...and a vision in her heart.
That a group so diverse could join together and count their blessings amazed me then and now.
Count your blessings this year ok?
I know I will.