Certainly I have a lot to be thankful for: my family, my job, life, the new Metallica and Duffy albums, the election is finally over, my record collection and the fact that all the vampires in this country have apparently settled in Louisiana and now drink TruBlood.
There’s also the realization that we may just survive the Bush years yet (even though we’ll be dealing with the fallout for generations), the Falcons actually made a smart draft pick, Sarah Palin’s 15 minutes are a few seconds away from being used up and we may all make it to Christmas before our economic system collapses completely.
Some other items on my thankful list:
n I’m proud to live in a country that allows us to express our opinions openly, even if they’re not in line with popular thought. I’m also grateful that there are some people — I’ve actually talked to a few, so I know they exist — who don’t condemn you to hell when your opinion differs from theirs.
n I’m thankful for brave men like my buddy Durward Hayes (and a belated happy Veterans Day, partner) and all of the men and women who put their lives on the line so that those of us who do have different opinions are free to express them.
n With the dehumanization of terrestrial radio (automation, baby), I’ve grown to appreciate even more the fact that we now have satellite radio (love my XM). It’s the only place to get hooked on Ron and Fez — the best talk radio ever — listen to music exclusively from the ‘60s and ‘70s (you can keep the ‘80s), catch pretty much any kind of ballgame live and enjoy the DJ stylings of people like Bob Dylan, Tom Petty and Little Steven Van Zandt.
n I appreciate the fact that there are men and women in the local law enforcement and fire departments willing to serve and protect a population — for not a lot money, I might add — that offers them little in the way of thanks and lots of complaints.
nI appreciate the delicious irony in the fact that John McCain came to Georgia to offer his support for Saxby Chambliss six years after he labeled Chambliss’ ads calling the patriotism of war hero Max Cleland into question “despicable.”
n I’m thankful for the Gulf Coast, where I hope to spend some quality time during the holidays.
n I’m glad I’m not rich ... I’m one of those folks who doesn’t have to worry about my portfolio losing value or the stock market taking a nose dive. I own controlling shares of C. Fletch
Enterprises (although my wife is the CEO), and I don’t even have a 201(k).
n I’m so thankful that my wife doesn’t ask — doesn’t even want — me to go shopping with her, especially on days like the looming Black Friday. I’m sure for a lot of dudes, that ranks up there with colonoscopies, chick flicks and putting together thousand-piece toys among the things our lives would be much more enjoyable without.
n I’m thankful for all that my dad taught me; thankful for Mona’s chicken and rice soup at the Cookie Shoppe; thankful that Lamar Hudgins hooked me up with the coolest music Web site (tropicalglen.com) since Napster was shut down; thankful that God made oranges, cherries, watermelon and pears; thankful to The Herald’s powers that be — Messrs. Mike Gebhart, Jim Hendricks and Danny Carter — that they see enough upside in these ramblings to allow me to keep doing them, and thankful that there are still some genuinely nice people left in this world.
n But I guess most of all, when it comes to occupying this space on a regular basis, I’m thankful for the readers who take the time to make this column and our paper a part of their routine. I don’t mind when you tell me how wrong I am — although a kind word every now and then is greatly appreciated — just so long as we can acknowledge that each of us is entitled to our own unique way of looking at life. As Billy Preston once sang: “That’s the way God planned it; that’s the way God wants it to be.”
May your holidays rock.
E-mail Carlton Fletcher at carlton.fletcher@albanyherald.com.
