It’s November which means Thanksgiving. Beyond being an excuse to put on ten thoroughly enjoyed pounds at the end of the month, it is a time to remember the things we’re thankful for. Personally, I am blessed way beyond what I deserve. If you know me at all, you’re probably nodding your head in agreement right now at the truth of that statement. So here are a few things for which I have extreme gratitude.
I’m thankful for places like Jiffy Lube so that I don’t have to change my own oil. I’m not saying I couldn’t change my oil, but it could very well cause a spill equivalent to the Exxon Valdez. I thank the good Lord for every day that I’m not required to perform an algebraic function greater than control+ALT+Delete. Not to mention every day that I continue to have the good sense not to wear pajamas in public and that I’m still able to order things in restaurants that do not have cilantro in them.
I think we can all agree that Happy Hour at Sonic pretty much makes everyone’s life better, mine especially. Even at full price, a Route 44 Vanilla Diet Dr. Pepper puts you one step closer to a better world. Put a small stack of Oreo cookies next to that and your gratitude bucket is topped off and overflowing. Can I get an “amen!”
Who among us is not thankful for lightning bugs? Fireflies are the coolest thing in the bug world and universally make everyone happy. If I had to be an insect, I’d want to be a lightning bug, because what could be better than having the ability to fly and have your rear end light up at night. At the same time. This has to drive every living cockroach insane with jealousy which makes it all that much better. I’m thankful that I live in a world that still has fireflies.
I’m thankful that I live in a country where everyone has a voice, even if they use that voice to stay really stupid things. Not that I’m judging, because, let’s face it, I’m given this blog to say whatever stupid thing I want. And it gets posted on the internet for tens of people to read. I am, in fact, blessed beyond what I deserve.
(Thank you firefly.org for the cool picture. I’m thankful for that, too!)
I always read the local obituaries. Mostly, I’m checking to see if there’s someone listed that I might know, and because I want to be sure my name isn’t posted among the recently departed. I really am the last to know anything and could easily have missed this about myself. As a regular obituary reader, I’ve compiled a few tips and pointers for what makes a good obituary. I understand you’ll be dead at that point and won’t much care, so you’re wise to plan in advance.
First of all, always have a nice, recent photo available for your family to run with your obituary. That Glamour Shot you took in 1993 does not count in any possible version. You didn’t even look like that photo when they took it and, almost 25 years later, you certainly don’t look like that now. Everyone who knows you well enough to read your obituary knows that. People who never met you probably know that, too. Mine is included here as proof. (That’s a lot of AquaNet on that hair) If you haven’t already, join a church. They take those directory photos all the time and that one will work great for these purposes.
I understand that your closest family members call you “Wookie Fuzzy Woo” as a term of endearment, regardless of how diabetically gooey it sounds. Don’t get me wrong, those little pet names are cute, but they need to go quietly to the grave with you. Do not include them as part of your name in your obituary. People can grieve properly over the name on your birth certificate without the added trauma of the Wookie Fuzzy Woo part.
This probably isn’t the right place to post your rap sheet or that parting shot at your brother. The statement: “Tell my so-called-brother that he was adopted and no one wanted to tell him” should maybe be saved for somewhere else. Put it in the will. It will soften the blow that you left him nothing.
Of course, include all the pertinent and interesting things about your life like your military service, career highlights and the fact that you were crowned Miss Corn Dog Queen in 1948 at the Dinger, Iowa County Fair. If you’re looking back right now and thinking you’ve lead a pretty boring life, get out there and do something exciting that you can include. Otherwise, take a few minutes and make some stuff up. Who’s going to question you? You’re dead.