Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving was pretty good. The bird, cooked expertly by Sweet Enemy was wonderful. We'd gotten it locally; since it was from the farmer at the end of our street, it couldn't be more local unless we raised it ourselves. It was expensive, but what we got in return is a really good turkey fed on bugs, squash and apples and allowed to run around outside like an idiot with all it's sisters for the summer. What we also get is a farmer that can stay in the area and leave the farm to his kids rather than have to sell it to a developer.

Family was cool, though my mom was a bit ill again. We all had to harp on her to go to the doctor on Monday. Sheesh. Sweet Enemy's dad and Awesome Step-Mother (the antithesis of Evil Step-Mother) came, and though I was worried, all got along fine. I wasn't worried about fighting, but just everyone having something to talk about instead of sitting around. My little niece was a hoot. She didn't nap on the way up and by the time six PM rolled around she was exhausted, but didn't want to sleep; there were too many new and interesting things to see. This was her first road trip as a cognitive human being. What makes me happiest is that I seem to be a fan-favorite. Let's hope that lasts. I'd really like her to make our place her home away from home; Underhill is too awesome not to share.

What made it pretty good rather than awesome? Well, my family stayed the night but left at ten AM. I had hoped that they'd spend one more day and we could go downtown and see the lake or maybe just walk in the local park or hit the farm. It's a bit... worrisome. Was it us? Our house? What can we do to make it more hospitable? I think an answer might be to let my parents sleep in our bedroom rather than his the fouton in the living room. Wasn't that rude of me? I feel bad about not thinking of that.

Aside from being more respectful to my parents, it will allow my mom go to bed early (as she's want to do) and to hang around in bed a little later. As it is now, since we don't want to disturb her, the night ends early. Also, since we don't have but the one fouton/couch, and some chairs, it makes it harder to hang out and relax when someone is sleeping in the morning. This lack of comfort creates and inertia that makes it easy for people just to jump in the car and go home. Maybe next year I can convince them to stay more than one day. Maybe getting that digital antenna so we can get more than one station will help...

Long Lost Friends Episode Two

A while back I did a post with some slides I'd found of an old friend named Andy Bogard. Now, we're on to my oldest lost friend, Dave Jessing. This is the only photograph I have of him. It was taken on the last day I saw him.



I knew Dave since I was in junior high, he was a year younger than me. He lived in the same town as my Weird Uncle Jim and was one of two kids my age on his street (a strange, dea stayed friends until '90 when I lost touch with him. To this day, I'm not sure why we hooked up. If we had gone to high school together, he wouldn't have been allowed to have anything to do with me. He was very good looking, captain of the football team, and put on muscle so easily he'd often have to stop working out for months because he'd get too big (in contrast I was a pudgy nerd who looked like a young Meatloaf). But, he was an extremely nice guy. Kind, friendly and fun. I slept over WUJ's house a lot and Dave and I hung out for hours, playing guns, walking the railroad tracks to the local drugstore to buy comics, watching ninja movies, re-enacting ninja movies. In short, he was one of my best friends.

I think he was a closet nerd and enjoyed the fact that he could do all of these nerdy things with me and I didn't affect his social standing. Not that he was embarrassed by me. In fact he invited me to accompany him to a graduation party one of his classmates was putting on and I ended up chatting with a cute cheerleader who went out with me a few days later (keep in mind that this was a year and a half into my first USCG hitch and I was in better shape and had a better haircut)

In 1990, we saw each other for the last time. It was February and he took me to see a cool sculpture in a rich guy's yard in the Uxbridge/Whitinsville area. I have no idea where it is, but check it out:



I haven't seen him since. I'd like to see him again even though I'm not sure what we'd talk about after eighteen years (wow. That IS a long time). I just hope he's doing very well.

Listening to while posting: Prairie Home Companion on the stereo upstairs (it's that loud for some reason)