I finally figured out why Thanksgiving is in autumn. I realize that’s where the Pilgrims put it, but I find my gratitude harder and harder to access as the weather turns colder.
Those early settlers were used to inclement weather; most of them were coming from England. Sensible people, like the Italians or Greeks, would have continued south and Plymouth Rock would be in Fort Lauderdale. I guess there would have been more sand than rocks, but that would have made going ashore even easier.
I don’t know if Florida would have worked for the first colonials. The Pilgrims were fond of wearing layers; Miami would not have suited them. The Puritans wouldn’t have had any place to stick a bright red letter “A” on Hester Prynne if she was wearing a gold bikini.
But I digress, like I do. In the middle of summer, it’s easy to be grateful for the trees, the flowers and the sunshine, but it’s a little harder when you’re up at the crack of dawn, in the dark, scraping ice off your windshield. As I skid and slide to work, I guess I’m thankful I didn’t wreck the car this year. I’m counting my blessings.
Yes, I’m glad I wake up every day, but it gets harder and harder to get out from under those covers. If it wasn’t for a full bladder, I’d still be in bed.
I found something else to be grateful for: I don’t need adult diapers. Yet.
I’m thankful for Alexa, the talking thermostat on the wall, because I can shout, “Alexa, turn the heat up,” and the heat goes up. I am still waiting for the artificial intelligence that cooks, cleans and does laundry, but you take what you can get.
I am thankful for my family and friends who get me out of the house in the winter. Even though I grumble on my way to meet them, trudging through snow, I’m always glad I do. I learned a weird thing about myself: I always thought the thing I hated about winter was being OUTSIDE, but the thing I hate about winter is being INSIDE. I am not made for the hermitic lifestyle of a monk. I can’t just Netflix and chill. I have to be up and in the world to get my kicks, despite the weather. I’m happier sweating on the lifecycle at the gym, or, even, arguing with a cashier in a grocery store than I am watching sitcoms and movies. I’d rather have a life than watch one.
Sure, if weatherman Jeff Verszyla (dude, spell check hates you) tells me it’s time to stay indoors, I’ll stay indoors and enjoy the TV. Otherwise, I have to be up and out.
Obligatory sappy part: I am also very grateful for all of you guys reading this column. My favorite thing in the world is to make people laugh, and having a place to do that makes me very happy, regardless of the weather.
Mike Buzzelli can be reached at email@example.com/.