On Being Grateful And Not Dead Yet

Yesterday was Thanksgiving here in the USA. If you’re reading this at another time of the year, that’s okay as long as you accompany the essay with some leftover turkey. It can be deli turkey. I know getting an entire roast turkey in June is difficult.

I’m grateful for a lot of things, in both November and June. The rest of the year? I sway between (1) utter disdain for my circumstance and acquaintances and (2) disdain that is slightly less utter. But today, given the crisp fall or drippy summer air, I’m feeling especially reflective. That’s probably just the sweat and turkey grease giving me a healthy sheen.

But in addition to being glossy, I’m also thinking back on the year and all the things for which I’m grateful. I’ll share a few with you here.

I’m grateful for my health.

I’m 46 years old, which means I’ve successfully dodged death for a while now. Those years have been filled with ridiculously dangerous activities, not the least of which is “existing in the United States.”

Tens of thousands of carcinogenic processed food-shaped items have made their way into my gullet. I’ve been the recipient and flipper of many birds along our nation’s lawless and maintenance-less roads.

But most scarily of all, I’ve been known to venture into inherently unsafe places like elementary schools, high schools, movie theaters, nightclubs, parades, Walmart, universities, churches, synagogues, and grocery stores.