The Blessings Definitely Outweigh the Curses

Before I begin my count-your-blessings essay, let me just say that I'm now aware that Denny Crane does not have Alzheimer's. He has mad cow disease. Unless I'm missing something. Did anyone actually see the shark as Boston Legal went soaring over it? Yup, I'm definitely going back to books.

Oh, and I got a haircut. A good one that I really like. Yea, me!

Okay, now for the real reason I'm here.

The day after tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day. This is a somewhat complicated holiday, contrived to make you eat until you're sick, watch football until your eyeballs fall out of your head, eat some more, make a mental note to add "lose weight" to your upcoming New Year's resolutions, listen to your kids fight until you find yourself wishing you didn't have the day off, snack, and hate your relatives, all of whom have decided that you are hosting the feast this year, when really you and your spouse had secretly planned to foist the kids off onto the grandparents and enjoy a long weekend in Jamaica. Or possibly Springfield. Maybe the Motel 6 on the other side of town. Anywhere but where you are. Where you would still eat obscene quantities of high-fat foods, but at least you could do it in peace.

Yes, Thanksgiving is the day that ushers in the high-paced, high-stress frenzy known as the Holiday Season.

You know what I'm talking about. The stress starts as soon as you're at the dinner table, surrounded by your loving and devoted family, staring at a feast the likes of which you've never seen before thanks to your sister who insists on bringing authentic chestnut dressing, which she made with her own hands, thereby sparing you the expense of a couple of boxes of Stove Top, and also she makes her own cranberry sauce from the berries she probably grows herself or at least harvests from somewhere, to say nothing of the ginormous bird she prepared in your late grandmother's turkey roaster which somehow Sis now possesses and how did that happen anyway, and did I mention she also makes her own gravy? From scratch? Dinner rolls too. If you didn't feel guilty about shopping on holidays, you would totally have the local supermarket cater your entire Thanksgiving meal, but heck, even you can pop a bird or a ham into the oven and make it palatable. But not this time. This time your sister shows you up. Oh, wait, she did that last year too. And now you're asking yourself why you keep inviting her.

But I digress. There you are at the table, eagerly waiting for the gun to go off so you can grab the biggest sweet potato, the white meat off the bird, a great spoonful of Sis's admittedly scrumptious chestnut dressing, when someone--probably Sis's husband--suggests that before you say grace and dig in, you should go around the table and name something you're Thankful For, he'll go first.

You know this is going to take a while. For one thing, there are 47 people at your table. You don't even know if they're all family because you've never met most of them. You assume that they are cousins of in-laws or something, and you don't want to be rude by asking if they actually belong there, so you just hope they don't eat too much or break anything (because naturally Sis has insisted on using Grandma's china instead of the Chinet you bought a hundred dollars' worth of just for this occasion, and isn't it interesting that she has Grandma's china as well as the turkey roaster? Maybe it's time for another look at the will). For another thing, the Things I'm Thankful For lists are long. Also the kids will probably find a way to gum up the works. They usually do.

But finally, the recitation of blessings has been completed, thanks have been returned to God, and it's time to EAT. Which you do in about fifteen minutes, because the ball games start pretty soon and your male kin are most assuredly not going to wash Grandma's china. So the menfolk congregate in the living room where they loudly complain that you don't have a big-screen hi-def TV and you're tempted to yell that the bar down the street has eight of them showing eight different sporting events, and it's open hint hint, and the womenfolk crowd into the kitchen--your kitchen--to put food away (assuming there's anything left) and wash up. Not surprisingly, Sis is in charge of Grandma's china.

Thus begins another Holiday Season. Then we have the fun of Christmas shopping, Christmas dinner (oh boy! another big meal for Sis to prepare!), and selecting just the right cheap champagne for New Year's Eve. Life is just one big party from November to January, ain't it?

Anyhoo, I've decided that today I will actually count my blessings so I'll be ready on Thursday, even though my sister and brother-in-law will not be at my house. The problem is where to begin.

Let's start with my family. I have a fabulous husband, two reasonably well-behaved children, one dear mother, two sisters whom I love, one brother (also loved), one aunt, one uncle, two cousins, and various and sundry nieces and nephews, to say nothing of my in-laws and my hubby's extended family. Wonderful people, my family, and I pray God's blessings on all of them.

I have more friends than I know what to do with. We think of things, of course. I love each and every one of them, more than they could ever possibly know.

I have a good job and I am blessed with employers for whom I actually like to work. This is something of a rarity any more, and I am truly thankful for it.

I have relatively good health. I'm starting to feel the effects of growing older, but so what? I'm embracing getting older. I've never been that concerned about my age. My husband laughs at me for constantly quoting Bette Davis, but she was right when she said old age is no place for sissies. Besides, I get to be Queen of the World just one day a year, and I'm racking up as many of those as I possibly can.

I have a home and a car. Plenty to eat and plenty to wear. I'm not lacking for much.

I have hobbies that I love. I sing with a choir. We just had a concert last night and are now on hiatus until January, which gives me a chance to rest my voice and spend Thursday nights at home with my hubby and kids, rather than being off at rehearsals. And I'm blessed with a family who understands how much I love to sing, and they're all good with practice nights. I'm a word puzzle freak, too. More with the understanding. And my husband and I like to read together. So I'm not often bored. That's a blessing if ever there was one!

And the greatest blessing of all: I have the love of Christ and His salvation, and a mansion waiting for me in Heaven.

How much more blessed can one person be?

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

If This is the Best Television Has to Offer, I'll Stick to Reading

I'm going to have to find a new favorite TV show.

For years, I glued myself to NYPD Blue every Tuesday night. I required complete silence from my Daredevil and Drama Princess, and His Nibs was the one who had to take the dog out during every episode. I refused to answer the telephone, even if it was my mother or my sister or Publisher's Clearinghouse calling. Tuesday nights became almost sacred.

Drama Princess got us hooked on Project Runway, so our Wednesday evenings have been devoted to dishing on the talents (or lack thereof) of the up-and-coming and wannabe designers. Wednesday evenings are almost sacred as well, and they're even better because the whole family is in on it.

But NYPD Blue was canceled and Project Runway's fifth season ended recently, so I had to find another show. Somehow, His Nibs and I glommed onto Boston Legal. We'd heard often about how entertaining Denny Crane was, and being childhood Star Trek fans, we decided we could do worse than watch a show starring William Shatner. At first I had trouble getting His Nibs interested. He doesn't like cop shows or lawyer shows, having been one and worked with the other, but since Boston Legal does a very respectable job of not worshiping lawyers (or cops), he's okay with it.

But last night's episode completely soured me on the show.

Today is Election Day. We are in the throes of a very heated, controversial, and highly emotional presidential campaign, which will very shortly end in one of two historically significant results: We will have either our first black President, or our first female Vice President. Either way, there will be celebrating and anger and rejoicing and complaining. Much like past elections. So what does this have to do with Boston Legal, you ask?

Simply put, it was a totally shameless plug for Barack Obama. I don't care about that. Really, I don't. I understand that most of Hollywood is in the Democratic camp, and I'm okay with that. Vote your conscience. It annoyed me that the writers of this episode shoved this into my face, but I also understand that I have power over the situation through my remote control. So it wasn't so much the political volatility that irritated me. It was the way the show portrayed supporters of John McCain. Or rather, the supporter. The only character on the show who was planning to vote for McCain was Denny Crane--or at least, he was the only one stupid enough to admit it.

Now, for those of you who don't follow the show, let me fill you in on a couple of things. Denny Crane has Alzheimer's. Another character, Jerry Espenson, has Asperger's Syndrome. Each character struggles with the outward signs and symptoms of his condition. Each has a close friend who sticks with him and helps him get through the tough episodes. The difference is that Jerry's little tics and nervous "pops" and use of "props" are endearing; we find ourselves admiring his perseverance and tenacity in getting through each day; we sympathize with him, we feel compassion for him. And we applaud his friend for seeing what a great guy he is and standing up for him.

Denny Crane's Alzheimer's, on the other hand, makes him ridiculous. He has a reputation as a womanizer; he's always had that. But now it is greatly exaggerated. Now he is a perverted skirt-chaser, a handsy pig with an addled brain, who also carries a gun (last night it was a paint gun, which he used to emphasize his point against Alan in an argument about politics) and who, in response to Alan's demand, gave two reasons why he would be voting for McCain: Salmon and women. Of course, since his brain is slowly wasting away, he gave the most inane explanations for his "reasons." And naturally, in his one moment of clarity (and people in the early stages of Alzheimer's do have those from time to time), he jumped the aisle and voted for the other candidate.

Salmon and women???

It was disgusting. It was blatantly insulting on two fronts: One, it made a mockery of one of the most insidious diseases known to modern man, turning this particular victim into a laughingstock, someone whose mind is so eroded that he is not to be taken seriously--until he casts the vote not for McCain, of course. Two, it implied that those who support John McCain in this election are idiots and fools who are incapable of presenting a cogent argument in their own defense (which begs the question of why these voters are being called upon to defend their choice at all). I noticed that not once did Denny Crane (or anyone else) demand that Alan Shore (or anyone else) give two good reasons for voting for Obama (whose name I don't remember as being actually mentioned in this episode at all, interestingly enough).

I know it's just a television show--one in its final season, from what I hear, so I'd have to find a new favorite anyway. But television is a powerful medium, and in a world where many people have a hard time separating fantasy from reality, last night's Boston Legal episode struck me as not just an irresponsible attack on John McCain and his supporters, but also a frankly inaccurate depiction of Alzheimer's victims. Ask anyone--including members of my family--who have in any way been touched by this nightmare of an illness.

The writers of this episode should be ashamed, but I doubt that they would see it that way. I think I'll just go back to books.