Larry Thack’s best pictures of his grandkids were taken by his Kia’s backup camera.

I’m told by my caregiver that I have a lot to be thankful for. After I let her know that she must never end her sentences with prepositions, I began to agree.
For starters, it’s nice to be on the losing side of all the elections this year. I don’t feel any obligation to gather up signs from the sides of roads. Once you lose, you can just let your candidate’s signs rot. I think I signed some document stating a responsibility as campaign manager for Ching Ching Yap to take down the signage around the county after the election, but since we lost I’ll just drive by them sadly until the weather claims them.
I’m also thankful the election is over. I’d like to give a shout-out to all those families with aging fathers who have crazy political ideas and are themselves anachronisms. You did it! What’ll come next? You’d assume it would be first female president, but it’s looking more like first pot-smoking unmarried “uncle” president. I guess we’re ready for that now.
Lord, I’d also like to say a prayer of thanks that very soon I will be able to eat either barbecue or seafood, or possibly both, with the alacrity only fast food can deliver. For soon a “This Is It” restaurant franchise will open its doors right here in Fayetteville. Sure there’s been one at the mall for years, but I’m not eating BBQ at a mall.
Furthermore I shall not be lonely this Thanksgiving as I just received the new Restoration Hardware catalog. It’s an unfortunate 666 pages and weighs eleven pounds. There is nothing inside it I would consider buying, so I can read through it without the crushing wantonness that plagues me when I read the Fingerhut catalog.
I’m particularly thankful the delivery man rather than Thack was crushed by that gun-safe.
One thing that’s been particularly comforting during this unseasonably warm fall is that the cold hands of death provide a comforting sensation rather than the usual chilling effect. I have decided to instruct my personal coroner to bend my mouth in the form of a smile when he drops me into the coffin for good.