It would baffling and onerous to try to make a list of all those things for which I am thankful--this is the burden of good things, I suppose, insufficient time in which to list them. But really, though Canadian Thanksgiving was originally conceived as a harvest holiday and it is supposed to have vague connotations for being appreciative of all good things, I believe most stereotypical images of Thanksgiving feature mainly a) family and b) nice things to eat. And I certainly am grateful for both, and will now attempt to encapsulate that emotion in the following transcription of a conversation held earlier today:
(my father and I rummaging through the coffin-sized deep-freeze in my parents' basement)
Me: Green beans, green beans, oh, pizza! Green beans, green beans...
Dad: Beets, do you like beets? Do you want these?
Me: Sure. Thanks. Green beans, Broccolli...
Dad: Yellow beans, green beans...you know, I don't really like vegetables anymore.
Me: What? You like vegetables. You've always liked vegetables.
Dad: Some of the thrill is gone, I think. I don't even know what the hell this is.
Me: (peering intently at frozen green blog in his hand) Is it broccoli? It could be broccoli.
Dad: (speaking to the green lump like Hamlet spoke to the skull of Yorrick) That may be. That may well be.
RR
Monday, October 13, 2008
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1 comment:
Well observed.
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