To Those Who Celebrate

 Wifey and I have a fundamental disagreement about pet ownership going forward. I love our guys -- a spirited, strange rescue named Vienna because she's sausage like, and Bo, a special needs Spaniel so named because he is bowlegged. They're getting on, as the Brits say, especially Bo, and, being a long view guy, we talk about the time when they cross the Rainbow Bridge.

I would happily NOT get another dog -- functioning only as a dog hotel for the Ds's dogs. Wifey made it clear that desire had no legs, or paws, I guess -- there will ALWAYS be a dog or dogs in her house, so that I can be the one to get up early to let them out and feed them.

On the other hand, as I age, I happily acquire more and more pet PEEVES, as is the right of aging, curmudgeonly men. And one has to do with FaceBook (tm) holiday greetings that come with an "I don't want to offend anyone" disclaimer. Many people, on their status, wish folks Merry Christmas, or Happy Passover -- adding "To those who celebrate." For some reason, that gets my goat, or rescue dog.

I am NEVER offended when a Christian wishes me Merry Christmas (or a self hating Jew for that matter), or Happy Easter. I know it's their holiday, and they wish to share the joy and happiness of it. It'd be the same if I was wished Happy Ramadan, or Kwanzaa, but that generally doesn't happen.

So -- to deal with that pet peeve, today I wished everyone Happy Thanksgiving, TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE. Only my closest FB friends, which is an oxymoron, will get the sarcasm. I mean -- who DOESN'T celebrate Thanksgiving, other than Brits or Canadians or my friend Lili who HATES turkey?

Ah -- quiet acceptance would be much easier. The Ds, in particular, wish I'd get the hell of ALL social media, given my snarkiness. I am already known as the wise ass of the Pinecrest NEXTdoor site, where my privileged neighbors complain often about the most Karen-like things. In fact, just this week someone complained about the second weed dispensary opening on SW 144th Street, and I added that since the Republicans were in control in Florida, weed places were springing up like, well, weeds. Of course, this brought angry rebuttals from dumb ass Trump types -- some saying that if Dems were in charge there would be MORE, and others saying I should be thankful.

Also, someone named Karen complained about her name becoming a meme for spoiled, entitled behavior -- and asked us all to stop using it. I responded that I got it -- my friends Adolph and Fidel and Che were fed up, too. So far -- no response.

So I guess I must add the freedom to express my sarcasm to the list of things to be thankful for this day. On a serious note, like F sharp, years ago my wise friend Steve, a Religious Studies scholar, quoted an old German Christian mystic named, I think, Eckhart, who said "If the only prayer you ever say is 'thank you,' then that is enough." I dig that.

So the two long tables are set, awaiting the arrival of the wonderful in laws our Ds have brought into our lives. I'm especially happy to see Judy, Jonathan's grandmother, who embodies the term matriarch. She survived the Holocaust as a child being hidden in a Hungarian convent, where she learned more about Catholicism than most born to that faith, and afterwards lived a life far more eventful and exciting than most Hollywood movies.

From the moment she and I met, we had a connection -- mostly since she had deemed that D2 would become another grandchild for her. This is long before they were engaged. I joked that it was too bad that we couldn't arrange marriages anymore -- but Judy didn't laugh.

Later, as we toasted the surprise engagement at a party in the Grammercy Park Hotel, she hugged me and said "We did it." 

This lady is amazingly generous, loving, and also VERY strong. Again -- I really look forward to catching up with her today -- with several of her grandkids, daughter, and a beautiful ginger great granddaughter -- close in age to our oldest grandson. Cuteness may abound today as well with these two toddlers.

As for the pet dogs? They'll get stashed away upstairs, in the room over the garage. I'll reward them later with turkey scraps.

My pet peeves get to attend the party.