Tradition! Tradition!

Thanksgiving! Tradition! I leave tomorrow for Thanksgiving 2005.

We've been doing the same thing for Thanksgiving since 1985 . . . people have died, children have been born, and we've all aged 20 years. And I still love it.

What is it about traditions that comfort me? Why is it that some people love traditions, and others couldn't care less? I just like knowing what's going to happen, knowing that the things I love will be coming around again.

What could be better than knowing that, if you're lucky, you get to do this all again next year?

Look at me! I'm special!

I'm feeling super-privileged . . . for the second time this week I’m going to be mentioned in a cool piece of writing!

Mike asked me on Monday if he could mention me in his blog . . . and then my pastor asked today if he could use my name in his sermon on Sunday. Wow! (It’s the little things that make me happy).

It also helps that I like both of these guys, and their writing, so I’m glad to be featured in it . . . and I get a sneak peek at Ron’s sermon before Sunday. Whoo-hoo!

Yeah, it’s the little things.

November Morning

It’s freezing here! Literally. I had to turn the heat on yesterday afternoon, and I wrapped myself in an afghan and watched Harry Potter. My house is never warm in the winter, because I’m too stingy to pay to keep the thermostat higher than 65.

Of course, this makes it extremely hard to get out of bed in the morning. My bed is a warm, sleepy nest, with my sheet and quilt and heavy down comforter. And I’m all bundled up in sweatpants and a sweatshirt and two pairs of socks. I love my bed all the time, but most of all in the winter.

I’ve always thought that if I weren’t a Christian, I would start my own religion based around sleeping. Bed would be the temple, and sleep would be the ultimate expression of worship and devotion . . . so the longer you spent asleep, the more devoted you would be. I think this could catch on!

But it’s still not winter, only fall . . . and I’ve decided I can’t walk through thick piles of leaves on the sidewalk without scuffing my feet. Most of the time, I walk like a normal person, taking steps. But leaves must be kicked.

Random Thursday Thoughts . . .

1) There is a bathroom in my building which I am allowed to use when I need it, but which I don’t have to clean. I have to clean and stock my office, but the other office’s employees maintain and stock the bathroom. I feel very fortunate to have no-strings bathroom privileges, when so many other janitorial duties are mine. Lately someone has even added apple hand lotion, perhaps for the winter months when hands get so dry. I will use this hand lotion if I need it, and not feel badly at all. Lucky me!

2) When (and if) I ever have a baby, I think I’d like to do it alone. I don’t really think this is possible. But I don’t do pain well with other people around . . . I’m much better off dealing with it on my own. So, if I were giving birth, I’d like to go to a small, dim, room and lock the door . . . administer my own drugs and hot compresses. Of course I’d need someone to check on me occasionally, preferably a doctor, to make sure I’m not going to die alone. But that person should just come in and out quietly and not say anything unnecessary unless I speak to her first.

The idea of nurses and doctors and a husband and possibly parents and in-laws and other relatives all popping in and out and talking all the time makes me tired and cranky already. Just leave me alone in my pain!

Up, Up, Down, Down, Left, Right, Left, Right . . .

Read this article today in Slate . . .

It’s all about how we’ll know when the baby-boomers have been shoved out of media control. We’ll know when we start seeing headlines like “By the Power of Grayskull” or “Fight for Your Right to Party” . . . catch-phrases and lyrics that defined OUR generation, not theirs.

Grrr . . . those baby-boomers and their 60s cultural references!

The thing is, boomer culture is so intertwined with ours I don’t know if there will ever be a clean break . . . we’re not going to reject Beatles music in favor of the Beastie Boys . . .we’re just going to use them both! I’d love to make every headline a pop-culture retro reference, but I can spit out an awful lot of oldies lyrics, and they’re just as likely to come to mind as a Britney Spears song.

The generation gap has shrunk.

Cell or Shen?

I followed a link to David Ludwig’s Xanga site today . . . He’s the kid from Lititz, Lancaster County, who killed his girlfriend’s parents on Sunday morning, and he was the subject of a massive manhunt on Monday. I feel kind of sorry for him, because I think things just got way out of control. His website seems innocent enough.

But weirdly enough, on his site he mentions visiting Houghton! (this is my alma mater). Back in September, he was up there, and thought it was “amazing.” If things had happened differently, he could have been a student up there next year . . . .

Go to Houghton or spend your life in prison . . . it’s an interesting contrast, really.