Carnes: Questionable start for the Holidays |

Carnes: Questionable start for the Holidays

Hey, it’s Thanksgiving week, are we still open?

We’ve never had one during a pandemic, but then again, we’ve never had a pandemic.

Either way, this is my 21st annual Turkey column, and normally I would dedicate it to this special time of year where each of us has the opportunity to give personal thanks for circumstances that did or did not occur.

But 2020 ain’t a normal year.

Apparently my personal 20/20 hindsight was blindsided by what must have been too much Mad Dog 2020 back in the 70s.

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Who knew cheap wine would be prophetic?

Every plan made since last February has been hijacked by COVID-19, forcing each of us to reassess priorities while simultaneously becoming so jaded that nothing surprises us anymore, not even an orange man turning yellow by redefining the term “lame duck” as he sheepishly hides away on the golf course from any form of responsibility to those he pretends to represent.

At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if ImPotus pardons himself but refuses the annual presidential tradition of pardoning the turkey, has it slaughtered live on OAN and Newsmax, deep-fried, and shares it with anyone who will state publicly that he won the election, and then blame it all on Hunter Biden.

And ImPotus Jr. has been infected with the virus and wants everyone to know that he is “totally asymptomatic” and that he will be busy cleaning his guns while in quarantine.

Good grief, and I thought it was his dad who had the small “hands.”

But still, this is our Diet Coke of holidays (the “Real Thing” is four weeks away), where we grossly overeat the same high-fat artery-lining crap, only it comes without the high-priced gifts and pointless presents to take the mental sting off the hefty weight gain.

Now is the time to play George Winston’s “Thanksgiving” album, close your eyes, and smile at the thought of being surrounded by those you love and love you in return, because chances are they’re miles away at the moment.

This is my 37th Thanksgiving in Happy Valley, and the longer I live here, raising my family, trying to be a good husband and father, observing the vast changes that occur from year to year, the more I personally find to be thankful for.

I give thanks that most of my friends and family have endured these last nine months, whether dealing with it all as fate or simply accepting the fact that “stuff happens.” Sometimes good stuff, sometimes bad stuff, but all just a roll of the probability dice.

I thank those who love me, hate me, ignore me or just generally put up with me, for without each and every one of you my world would not be the exact place that it is.

And finally, being in the upper spectrum of middle age, I am thankful for three ambitious children, one beautiful and very patient wife who, although never understanding why being called all sorts of colorful names online makes me grin like a Cheshire Cat, still enjoys being seen with me in public, one incredible daughter-in-law, a grandson, real friends (you know who you are), fake acquaintances (ditto), beer, golf, skiing and that I get to enjoy them all in Happy Valley.

I just hope the mountain stays open.


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