We should be thankful for what didn't blow in this year
By SUE CARLTON
Published November 23, 2005
Seems like just days ago we were sweltering in our cars, watching waves of heat shimmy up from the pavement and wondering if summer would ever end.
At last, we're deep into November. The big day of celebration is almost here, a day of tradition when we're deeply and humbly thankful.
That's right, it's almost the last day of hurricane season.
No, no, hurricane season is not officially over till next week. Of course I mean Thanksgiving, and in the spirit of the holiday, here are a few things for which I'm feeling thankful.
POWER: We have it. Despite this year's storms, we never lost it. Millions of our fellow Floridians did, some for days or weeks, in the wake of Hurricane Wilma. While the damage could have been worse, it was a rough go of cold showers and gas lines, of life interrupted. Meanwhile, other parts of Florida are still scarred from last year's storms, and other states are recovering from the devastation of Katrina.
Down in Broward County, in the path of the most recent pummeling, those broken traffic lights that made four-way stops at hellishly busy intersections into an adventure are fixed. But a lot of places still look like the morning after the world's rowdiest frat party.
Last week, they got nervous all over again when Gamma looked like a threat. "No way am I going to get caught without gas again," a man said as we waited in a line three-deep at a Pembroke Pines gas station.
Gamma went away, something to be thankful for. I drove past uprooted trees, tarp-covered roofs and smashed-in cars and thought, man, were we lucky.
POLITICIANS: This year we had Hillsborough Commissioner Ronda Storms to make sure our gay pride wasn't showing and fellow Commissioner Brian Blair to protect that most sacred of school holidays, Easter Monday. Why does this make the thankful list? As a newsroom colleague likes to say, do you want good news or good government?
TRADITION, NOT TOFURKEY: In our house, Thanksgiving dinner looks pretty much like it did in the 1970s. No funny stuff in the mashed potatoes. Nothing that involves a foreign language, no a la anything, unless those french-fried onions on top of the green bean casserole count. This one day a year, things are certain.
The turkey must be obscenely huge and appropriately browned and must fill the house with wonderful turkey smell. We do not deep-fry. We will not brine.
Though we have vegetarians in our midst, it is sacrilege to suggest serving a tofurkey, one of those nonturkeys made of, well, you know. (We like saying "tofurkey," and also "turducken," one of those Cajun-inspired turkeys stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken, but neither will see our table.)
We use cans that never appear in our kitchen any other time of year: cream of mushroom soup for casseroles, cranberry sauce that slides out in one solid can-shaped mass. Even if only one or two of those round cranberry sauce slices get eaten, it must be on the table.
Because rice and gravy are traditional in my husband's family, we have added white rice to the menu. Still, I remain suspicious.
Some traditions are best nipped in the bud. I'm thinking of those early years when my sister and I forgot to remove the bags of turkey innards from the bird (who knew?) and they made their appearance during the ceremonial carving. Sad to report, this happened two years running.
To those of you nice enough to ask following last week's column about going to a NASCAR race: Despite my highfalutin ways, as one reader put it, I had a great time at Homestead. People-watching highlight: the dude with the checkered flag shaved onto his head. Surprising sight: tailgaters, not satisfied with hot dogs and canned beer, grilling Florida lobster tail and sipping Bloody Marys.
Don't count me as part of the NASCAR nation just yet. But the night was beautiful, the cars loud and the crowd nothing short of overjoyed. I even got a cowboy hat.
Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.
Sue Carlton can be reached at carlton@sptimes.com