Giving thanks for the little things
By ROBYN E. BLUMNER
Published November 21, 2004
It's Thanksgiving, a time when we reflect on things for which we are grateful. That's particularly tough this year as I am deeply disturbed over the direction of this country. I see the next four years under George W. Bush as highly destructive of American freedoms, environmental protections and our nation's stature in the world. But Thanksgiving is a time to put those larger worries aside and look a little closer to home. Beyond my good friends, wonderful husband and caring family, here are just a few of the things that bring me great joy and comfort:
* The Onion. With stories and headlines such as: "Nation's Poor Win Election for Nation's Rich" and "U.S. to Send 30,000 Mall Security Guards to Iraq," the satiric weekly newspaper (www.theonion.com) consistently turns bitter realities into sidesplitting comic foils. It is always a relief to turn to its pages after having devoured the day's real news.
* This American Life. The weekly radio program on NPR is a peripatetic romp through the American psyche. Conceived and hosted by the innovative radio pioneer Ira Glass, the program has explored such oblique subjects as the line between a mere screw-up and a full blown fiasco (it's very thin), and "the apology" - why do the two parties to an apology rarely walk away satisfied. Glass is an anthro-prospector, finding those gems of humanity who live the thoroughly examined life. He discovered David Sedaris when the guy was cleaning apartments in New York!
* Newspaper readers. I adore going to my e-mail on Mondays for reader reaction to my weekend column. Oh, sure, there are always a few nuts and haters, like the Clearwater businessman who called a recent column "Jew blabber." But mostly, my in-box runneth over with well-informed comments and thoughtful insights. Keep 'em coming.
* Pottery Barn catalogs and Architectural Digest. A vapid indulgence, I know. But it's glorious eye candy. The P.B. catalogs seem to put all that cozy luxury within reach, whereas A.D. is just pure fantasy. The perfect rooms, frozen in time, belie the messy human lives that occupy them. How utterly alluring.
* C-Span. Because of C-Span I can live anywhere. No longer do I worry about being near an intellectual or cultural center. C-Span brings the lectures, expert panel discussions and public policy hearings right into my living room. On any given evening I can choose between offerings as diverse and scintillating as a discussion on gay marriage from the conservative American Enterprise Institute, author Simon Winchester reading from his book on the birth of modern geology, or watching a congressman speak emphatically to an empty chamber. I'm an addict.
* Authors Robert Caro, Michael Chabon and Kurt Vonnegut. They've never let me down. Caro's biographies steep you in the forces that conjure history, and tutor you in the ways of powerful men. Chabon's The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay is one of best written books ever. And Vonnegut is a dragon-slayer who uses absurdist humor to lay down lessons for an age. Thanks guys.
* Emergency exit rows. Those five or so extra inches of leg room in coach make all the difference in air travel. I promise to handle the door in the event of a crash as long as my knees can come off my chin during the flight.
* Cumin. How did I ever get along without it?
* E-mail. How did I ever get along without it?! This technology has revolutionized keeping in touch. In many ways it has become even more important than the phone. Who knew my friends were all so clever? Who knew there were so many dirty jokes?
* Godiva's truffles and $10 wine. These days, if it's a choice between splurging on chocolate or cabernet, you know where I stand. There are racks upon racks of perfectly serviceable (to my undeveloped palate) $10 reds, transforming what was once an indulgence into a staple (it's good for you now, right?). The transcendent luxury of high-end chocolate, however, remains a rare treat (and shall remain so, say wallet and scale.)
* Casual Fridays. Here is the ultimate exaltation of substance over form. Who cares if you look like a fishmonger? You're here to get a job done. To me, comfort is a prerequisite to accomplishment, and I'm glad businesses have caught on . . . 20 percent of the time.
So, these are a few of the things that enhance life and make me grateful. I know each of you has a similar list that I hope you consider as you sit down with loved ones and friends to enjoy your turkey.