I’m a curmudgeon.  Or, perhaps, I’m just curmudgeonly. If I weren’t, there wouldn’t be much to say on iddream, I suppose.

Today, though, I’d like to selectively remove this part of my personality and look at life with a more grateful vision. It is Thanksgiving Day today and no matter how you may feel about the origins of this holiday, the bottom line is that today has evolved to become a uniquely American holiday and it is singularly a day to appreciate what you have because there is always someone else who has less.

This blog often seems like an open exchange of letters between Randy and me. I’d argue that point, but then sometimes I think that notion is correct. Now and then, for me, it’s a forum in which I think I’m speaking to an empty house. I feel like a representative sitting in Congress reading to the janitors as they sweep the aisles of crumpled papers with impressive letterheads. I want a record of what has gone and what goes through my head. In doing so, though, I invite the world to think about what I think about, to put it awkwardly. I am glad that some of you do take part in this endeavor because I think it just might be a quick path to a vacation at an asylum. So, on this day I send thanks out to you, o’ mighty Internet, and to you readers who may read and not say anything and, especially, to those readers who read and do say something. Here’s to you.

I also, of course, want to pass along my gratitude for the friendship between us and Randy and Mary that has held strong. Whatever it is that we may pontificate upon – politics, religion, cooking, music, art – it binds us all. Sharing these things with them has made life worth living even in the toughest of times.

To all of our friends in Detroit, far too many to name, we give thanks to you all for keeping us in your hearts and in your minds. Truly, it is you that keeps the fire in our bellies strong. We’ve never known such an amazing assortment of individuals and we never will.

To our many other friends dotting the landscape of the mountains, plains, the swamps, the forests, the hills, and the coasts of our land – we thank you for making our lives all the more colorful.

To our families scattered all across the States, we give thanks to all of you for being a constant source of inspiration, stories, history, and, indeed, laughs.

On a personal note, I want to thank my wife, Kim, for just being herself. It is through her that I stay as strong as I can and it is through her that I am made an honest husband and father. Without her, my life would have no contextual meaning. I also thank my daughters, Delphina and Hero, for completing my life as it is. It is through them that I dream of a future that is better.

Again, thanks to all of you and thanks to God for making things complex. I like it that way.