Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, Bush! I wonder what blessings you're counting this morning. Not too many of them, on the political front at least. Nor in the world at large, this time around. The latest outrage in Lebanon doesn't help the situation in the Middle East. As for me, well, as you might guess I'm giving thanks that we'll soon have Democratic majorities in the House and Senate, and perhaps, finally, hopefully, some accountability in Washington. Something to celebrate, at our end. Not that I'm one to crow...

But seriously, Bush, I'm sure that you and I both are thankful for some of the same things. For family, above all, and friends. For those who love us, and the love they give. For everything we have learned in life, even the hard lessons. For myself, for having been blessed to reach an age in life where I can enjoy a certain detachment, a kind of wisdom. And a greater ability to slough off the anxieties of the ego and just love, and live, and let live... I say "greater" in the full knowledge that I'm still capable of the tantrums, the petty acts of selfishness.

Ah, well. Speaking of petty, I have one more thing this year to be thankful for, Bush. A new car. The day before yesterday I'd have called you crazy if you had suggested such a thing. But then I took my Prius in for a minor service... and came out with a brand new one. They made me an offer I couldn't refuse. It seems that the demand for used Priuses (Prii?) is such that the Toyota folks are so keen to lay their hands on one for their sales lot that they're prepared to make special offers on their new ones--which are now more plentiful, I hear. So my thinking is, I did a double favor to myself and the environment: in making my old Prius available to another (soon-to-be) happy Prius owner and in acquiring a new one myself, I have effectively doubled my contribution to the health of the planet and can feel even a little bit more self-righteous as I drive the freeways.

So there you have it, for this Thanksgiving Day. Have a good turkey, Bush, down there in Crawford. I assume you're back at the ranch for the festival. Best of everything, your PaL.