Seriously though, by definition, we can never fully give thanks for what we have without achieving a total understanding of what it is to have not. It's a bit grim and presumptuous in its stipulations; it's less suspicious to just be "happy" about things, without confronting the idea that we'd be less happy without them. But I suppose that's the point: thankfulness implies a second party, a giver of these precious moments and goods & services - however abstract. For some it could be an individual, an institution, an establishment, or a higher power, but I'm not compelled to be so specific; all of this stuff is just the textured montage of life. And my so-called life, and yours, has much to offer.
Pizza toppings. Sweatpants. Automatic transmission. Sunsets. Dogs. Side 2 of Abbey Road. Lava lamps. Hot water. High Definition. Scented candles. Sunrises. Store-bought pie. Discounted wine. Deodorant. Martin Scorsese. General Gau. Coffee table books. Trees. Toilets. Polka dots. Sand art. Summertime. Church bells. Kleenex. The female form.
The list doesn't ever end, and if it does you're good to die. And much in the same way I exclude Christ from Christmas and Dunkin' Donuts from Halloween, this American holiday is less about the slaughter of turkeys and displacement of Indians and more about The Celebration of Life - not just because it's short (because it kinda is) but because it's so rich and heavy and brutal and sexy that if you don't celebrate, the muck and sorrow will tear you down into being someone you don't wanna be and who I don't wanna know. So I elect to disregard the clichés of political cold wars of words with relatives, virtue signaling against the origins of this country, or cracking wise about gravy and pies, and instead, I choose life. Here are 5 haphazard (but preeminent nonetheless) things for which I'm truly thankful.
- Paul
Blue Underground
Since 2002, this home video company (founded by director William Lustig) has released nearly 200 Horror and Cult titles on disc, and I've been all over it since the beginning. Out of all these "boutique labels" (Vinegar, Severin, even Criterion) this one was and still is the most significant in terms of redirecting my focus in Cinema into a very specific subgenre and lifelong love affair: Italian Exploitation. There are too many titles to mention that have now spanned all these video labels, and I continually notice it all leads back to the disquieting discoveries of Argento, Fulci, Lenzi, Margheriti, Bianchi, and all the other names that end in "i" or "o." God bless you, Bill Lustig.
Wendy's Frosty
Let's cut right to the chase: in my lifetime, I can't recall with any certainty an instance in which I asked for a Frosty from Wendy's only to be told, "I'm sorry, the mechanism that dispenses ice cream and ice cream-related products is currently not operational." Completely reliable as far as I can tell - unlike some other fast food joints. Trust and stability aside, a Frosty is known for being "thick enough to use a spoon, smooth enough to use a straw," which makes it the best milkshake on the market for my money, and chances of having one any time I want don't rest on the shoulders of some bitchy, ramshackle machine that only works when it feels like it.
Lincoln Woods
By definition I live in a city. It's a small city but it's not rural farmland. Fortunately, there's no shortage of parks, trees, bodies of water, and densely wooded areas. One of the more structured and nostalgic settings for me is officially called Mass Audubon's Lincoln Woods Wildlife Sanctuary: a manageable mile of forest that's small enough to never get lost, and big enough to completely forget that there's an AutoZone right over there. It has a clearing, a brook with a little bridge, a swamp, and a few bumpy inclines that require actual climbing; as a child, it allowed me to be a knight, a ninja, a soldier, a vampire hunter, but most often it was the reality of the place that was the most fantastical. And perhaps the only physical location I know on Earth that hasn't changed - that's a big deal.
YouTube
We have a situationship: lying, verbal abuse, infidelity, gaslighting, just various categories of toxicity. But the sex has always been great. Even though the political rants and video game reviews and cat videos are a detailed demonstration of social and moral decay, it's a fascinating and useful testament to a time when the dullards had their day. That's just lemonade -- the real fruit flavor is in the old commercials, news footage, talk shows, music videos, every piece of information and memory you've ever had or wanted to have but you missed it the first time. There's continually new and interesting user-generated content, but ultimately its well-deserved popularity derives from the magnificent audio/visual archive that it is. Filter out all the nonsense and the comments and you've got one of humankind's greatest resources.
Freedom of Thought
For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught. Throughout a life of compromise and loss, the one thing they never took from me was my ability to dream and contemplate and my right to do so. And this freedom isn't mandated by any government or religion - if anything it's typically discouraged. But it's with this power that we're able to filter and differentiate and identify things like "what to be thankful for." It also has the potential to turn on you and become your enemy -- and even that in and of itself makes for such a spectacular struggle that guarantees never a dull moment to be had; it's where most of my energy goes and it offers the greatest rewards. And if I were ever to lose it, I couldn't know well enough to care.
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