Before stuffing our faces with the bounty on the Thanksgiving table this month, I’d like to take a (pre-tryptophan-impaired) mental inventory of all those things that merit giving thanks for in the first place.
First, we’re celebrating Thanksgiving because we’ve won that great cosmic lottery that landed us in America. Second, the very fact that Thanksgiving represents the legitimate opening ceremony for Eggnog Season deserves plenty of gratitude as well.
Setting aside those obvious precursors, it’s worth mentioning the “Big 5,” for which we should all be eternally grateful: electricity, indoor plumbing, antibiotics, the Internet and Cherry Garcia.
But what of those smaller joys that make life stellar, day after day, year after year? The giblet gravy would go cold if grace included everything I consider to be excellent perks for living in these modern times.
Herewith, I submit this addendum to this year’s Thanksgiving offering, thanking God, the universe and, most of all, the inventors and/or creators of the following things that, simply put, rock my world:
Air Conditioning It may be November, but hey, guess what? I’m that bright orange infrared ball you can see from space because I’m a heat source 24/7/365. Nothing sends happiness and gratitude out the window faster than breaking into a sweat – especially when the seat warmers in my car are cranked up to maximum output. (Oh! Add to category: seat warmers – yes; heated steering wheel – YES.)
Spanx I don’t know who you are, Spanx inventor, but anyone who can smash my pudge into a svelte form (in the same way that a Butterball – the bird, not me – can pack itself into a slimming little package of plastic and netting) deserves applause. Because of you, I think I’ll have another piece of pie after all. And I love you for that.
Chick-fil-A It’s been a rough year for you, Chick-fil-A, but your deliciousness has helped me move past your – how do I say it – unbridled homophobia. (Isn’t being closed on Sundays irritating enough?) So don we now our gay apparel and let’s get ourselves the hell over it before one of us really ends up on Santa’s naughty list.
Photoshop Thanks to you, Photoshop inventors (provided I can get my hands on the photo before the occasional passive-aggressive frenemy posts it on Facebook), I will remain plastically frozen in time, in wrinkle-free, teeth-whitened, airbrushed and de-noised glory. Also, thanks to you, Photoshop inventor, I must adopt a hermitic lifestyle just to perpetuate this ruse. And it’s so worth it.
Cream-Filled Chocolate Long John If the Pilgrims had ever stumbled across a cream-filled chocolate long john, this would be the feast on our holiday tables. Thank you, Daylight Donuts, for making your cream-filled chocolate long johns better than the entire turkey, all the side dishes, the Chex mix and all 10 pies.
Adding to the list, Slice co-workers name what inspires their gratitude:
Publisher and editor-in-chief Elizabeth Meares notes, “I’m thankful for ‘The Committee,’ which consists of me, my mother, my three siblings and – a new addition – my 30-something niece. This self-appointed group will let members of our family know – in no uncertain terms – if their behavior is considered less than ideal, which can run the gamut from questionable decision-making to eating too much ice cream. Being a member of The Committee does not preclude being given a dressing-down by The Committee.
“I am also thankful that the other members of The Committee reside in Texas and California, which has probably spared me from their wrath on several occasions.”
Features writer John Parker says, “I’m thankful that Tebowing is out.”
Associate editor Steve Gill adds, “My personal list starts with caffeine, beer, big sandwiches and my unusually lengthy femurs… I’m also happy to rhapsodize about the heated seats in the Warren Theatre, which is a pretty amazing theatre to begin with. Since we started going there, I’ve only been anywhere else once.”
Contributing writer Mark Beutler reveals, “I’m thankful my childhood idol, Cher, is still around; but equally thankful that I outgrew the need to put a towel on my head and belt out ‘Half-Breed’ into a hairbrush. Mostly.”
Lauren’s note: This Cher talk reminds me to add my own Cher-inspired category:
» Lycra Spandex in my jeans.
» Plastic surgery, which I’ll need when the Chick-fil-A nuggets and cream-filled chocolate long johns finally push the Lycra Spandex to the limit.
Now, let’s eat.