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Happy Gobble Gobble

Can someone tell me why everyone always wishes you a, "safe," Thanksgiving? It's become the standard greeting in workplaces everywhere.

You know, maybe I don't want to have a safe holiday this year. Maybe I want to have a, "Risky," Thanksgiving. You know, have the family chase the turkey around the yard with meat cleavers, culminating into a crazed psycho killer piñata style bloodbath. Or maybe we'll get the left-over m-80s from the 4th of July out of the basement. After all, they're just sitting down there sweating, doing no one any good right now. Now we're talking!

Everyone's getting into it, too. Have you seen that new commercial advocating Jennie-O Turkey processed turkey breast? It shows a housewife fighting to get a frozen, seventy-five pound turkey from the sink to the oven when it slips from her hands, flies out the window, strikes her husband in the head--presumably it's the only day he does yard-work all year long--and kills him.

Don't know about the neighborhood in which you grew up, but that commercial probably did more to sell huge frozen turkeys to frustrated housewives then any Norman Rockwell themed commercial ever managed. It would, of course, drive down the sales of canned Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. There are trade-offs with everything, I guess.

Have a great day, friends. On a serious note, please remember to give thanks to the people that you love today, but remember to accept thanks as well. You're a part of what makes their world special, and you need to accept that, and enjoy your own worth.

Two sides of the same coin.

So to everyone, but in particular: Catherine, Angela, Bob, Kathy, Sue, Jim (yes, you Jim), John, Dee, Amber, D-Man, Ray, Anna (!), Jenn, Bev, Dave, Dwight, Mikey B., Theresa, Netter (chin up, Netter! Yes, I've been listening . . .)Suzi-Q, Ken, Megan, and all the rest of you (Gawd, someone let me put down the magic mirror . . .), Happy Thanksgiving. I love you all more than words.

Joseph Haines, signing off from The Edge of the Abyss.

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