Thanksgiving Review

We will post a two-fer today, finishing up our decade of song after a brief description of yesterday's festivities (and an updated look at "The Beard").

Monkey and I spent yesterday preparing a meal for just the two of us. However, as we have experienced Thanksgivings for multitudes, we cooked enough food for about ten of us. Our pumpkin pie was finished on Wednesday night, prior to a Mexican extravaganza with the North-side Ambassadors (where I was dubbed "El Lechero"--there's no need to explain why).

On Thursday morning, we had a short cup of coffee and then launched into the preparation of an apple pie and cranberry sauce. After the pie was finished, we walked the puppy dog, and then settled in to watch a few snaps of the first of three really uninteresting professional football games. Around two o'clock, we were in full cooking-up-a-storm-swing.

At five, when it was all over, we had mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, corn-bread stuffing (from scratch, baby!), cranberry sauce, gravy, pork chops (no turkey), and roasted brussel sprouts. And it was all awesome.

We took a pause, watched the Maryland Terrapins men's b-ball team put a whoopin' on the #6 Michigan State Spartans, and then dove into a double slice of pumpkin and apple pie. I must say, the pumpkin was wonderful. The apple was a bit too tart and too mushy--I won't use Rome apples again. Bad choice.

Once the pie was consumed, Monkey and I began to fade. It had been a busy day, considering it was only a meal for two, and we needed our rest, in order to tackle the mountain of leftovers we would have to face in the coming days.

Songs For Better or Worse

Recent posts and various comments have led me to this poorly thought-through idea. The 1970s often get slagged as a miserable, empty decade. In many respects, that may be true. I was there, I have some memories. However, there's plenty to keep dear about that odd period that gave us roller disco, President Ford, and the Chevy Vega.

With that in mind, I have assembled a list of relatively popular songs of the time that strike me as not only time pieces, but as timeless. I could listen to them endlessly. I have divided them by year, and provide as my only comment, a snippet of lyrics (sometimes from memory, so accuracy: be damned). We'll do through 1975 tonight. We'll finish the decade later.

1970

Spirit in the Sky--Norman Greenbaum
When I die and they lay me to rest, I want to go to the place that's the best....

American Woman--The Guess Who
I don't need your war machines, I don't need your ghetto scenes....

War--Edwin Starr
What is it good for?

Big Yellow Taxi--Joni Mitchell
Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you got til it's gone....

1971

Behind Blue Eyes--The Who
And if I smile, tell me some bad news, before I laugh and act like a fool.

Immigrant Song--Led Zeppelin
Hammer of the gods....

Maggie May--Rod Stewart
I laughed at all of your jokes. My love you didn't need to coax.

Black Magic Woman--Santana
Don't turn your back on me, baby....

1972

Papa Was a Rollin' Stone--The Temptations
Wherever he laid his hat was his home....

Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)--Looking Glass
Brandy used to watch his eyes when he told his sailor's stories....

Out on the Weekend--Neil Young
The woman I'm thinking of, she loved me all up....

Doctor My Eyes--Jackson Browne
Just say if it's too late for me.

1973

Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road--Elton John
I should have listened to my old man.

No More Mr. Nice Guy--Alice Cooper
My dog bit me on the leg today....

Rambling Man--Allman Brothers
I was born in the back of a Greyhound bus rolling down Highway Forty-one...

Stir It Up--Bob Marley and the Wailers
Little darlin'....

1974 (Okay, 1974 was pretty lame...I could only come up with two good ones)

Rebel Rebel--David Bowie
You've torn your dress, your face is a mess, you can't get enough, but enough ain't the test....

Radar Love--Golden Earring
Radio plays some forgotten song. Brenda Lee's coming on strong....

1975

Mexico--James Taylor
I've never really been, but I'd sure like to go....

Wish You Were Here--Pink Floyd
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl....

Sister Golden Hair--America
I been one poor correspondent....

Born To Run--Bruce Springsteen
I wanna die with you Wendy on the streets tonight in an everlasting kiss.

The Speed of Life

It was a blisteringly fast week, last week. Friday came so quickly (as it sometimes can), that I was literally surprised by its arrival (which came on Thursday morning, I think). I was absolutely certain that I had lost a day somewhere.

This work week has the potential to seem as fast, due to its three day structure. Then again, those short weeks before a long weekend can sometimes feel like slow motion time. We shall see.

Beside a four day weekend, a holiday of conspicuous consumption, and a visit by the North Side Ambassadors (formerly known as, simply, The Ambassadors), I am looking forward this week to the return of my iPod. The old one's hard drive gave out on me, if you'll recall, and we're just now getting around to replacing it (with the new gazillion GB Classic). I am looking forward to having so much more capacity that I'll actually wonder if I should download some Barry Manilow. You know, just because I can.

Getting It Right (On The Second Try)

Recently, Nebraska has become a laughing stock across the nation, due to its less-than-perfect "Safe Haven" law. In many (almost all, I think) states of the Union, it is legal to leave a child at a hospital to be taken into the care of the state. There are usually no questions asked. In all other states, the age limit on this "safe haven" is from three days to maybe a few months. In the land of corn, they left the age limit basically undetermined. So, for the past few months, thirty or so children (all well above the age of a few months, and some near to 18) have been left on the door steps of state hospitals. One from as far away as Michigan. How's that for a well-written piece of legislation?

But, even with all the problems that the law was making for everyone involved in child welfare, the governor did not want to call a special session to get the law fixed. He said it would cost too much money. Apparently, it will cost about as much as taking care of thirty kids of various ages, since that is about the number it took for him to change his mind.

And, just the other day, they capped the age at thirty days. Which is as good as any arbitrarily settled upon age for leaving a baby behind. Well, except that it's a helluva lot better than 18 years.

The Bearded Truth

As you may know, I occasionally use the approach of winter as a good excuse to stop shaving. I have grown a beard several times over the last few years (once, precariously close to my wedding day, according to Monkey, but that was for a show, not the weather; and, I shaved it (and got a haircut) before the nuptials). I usually try to keep it trimmed neatly, rarely letting it grow beyond 1/2 inch in length (except for that time before the wedding, but, again, it all worked out).

This year, I got a jump on things, choosing the Labor Day holiday as the weekend to begin my shaving moratorium (much to Monkey's dismay, really; I think she has stressful memories of that beard I had before the wedding (it was something to behold)). I also resolved to allow my beard to grow to whatever length it might reach before a) the weather warmed in Spring, b) I tired of the beard, or c) Monkey cut it off as I slept. Thus far, our plan is in full effect.

I would like, before the next several months are out, to be sporting the 19th century shovel beard look, but only time will tell if I am able to pull that off. Monkey, not being much of a history buff, is hoping for other things, like a return to those days just prior to our wedding, when I emerged from the bathroom as smooth-faced as I ever have been.

Stay tuned.