Thursday, November 25, 2010

On second thought, don't

Q: Well, what about those boring, picky, literal-minded, whiny, poetry-hating, clock-watching copy editors? Aren't they ever thankful for anything?

A: Of course we are! An expanse of sunless Midwest bleak enough to make Death give you pawn and move! Language Czarina and operative "Boris" are taking turns at the piano, the fridge is full of beer, and no one seems to think it necessary to annoy a perfectly good turkey just because it's the fourth Thursday of November. And perhaps best of all -- it's someone else's turn to copyedit the annual Thanksgiving paean! Take it away, Kansas City:
On the first hour of Thanksgiving, my true love gave to me:

A pumpkin-flavored latte.

Is this a great country or what? The last quarter-century has seen an explosion of varieties, flavors, and choices in just about everything! Our girls play sports, our boys an endless stream of video games, our talkie-typie gadgets are multiplying like Asian carp, every kind of music pours through our ear buds, the automobile market resembles a candy store — only granddad remembers how Henry Ford once offered only black licorice.

On the second hour of Thanksgiving, my true love handed to me:

The task of visiting the “landfill” to wake the daughter.

Most of us got the day off. Not every country does this, you know. How better than to spend it with the kids? Tackle and tickle the little ones, talk to the teens, once you pry them off their mattresses. Any-age topic of conversation: Which is better? A Harry Potter book or its movie? Explain and offer one example per tome. Backup topic: Who would want to be in that lame Hufflepuff House at Hogwarts?

On the third hour of Thanksgiving, my true love gave to me:

The list of things that were forgotten on that supposedly last trip to the supermarket yesterday.

At our house, we judge a meal by the number of grocery runs. Hey, they’ve got eggnog in already! Yes, many of us are seriously overweight, but, just today, when the giblet gravy is passing back our way, can we just appreciate the bounty of our land?
Q: Does it go on like this?
A: And on. And on.

Best wishes to the poor unsung rimster at each and all of American's Newspapers who drew this unfortunate duty, whatever form the story took. May someone else get the Black Friday checklist.


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