Every year when Thanksgiving rolls in, some people get on the soap box and air their thanks publicly. I suppose that practice does not really hurt anybody, despite its seeming corniness. The holiday, though originally Christian and American in inception and conception, is getting secular and now widely celebrated by all Americans, regardless of creeds and credos or racial heritage, perhaps with the exception of the American Indians who probably wish that their forbears had not kindly helped those poor Pilgrims in their first harsh winter in Plymouth colony.
Thanksgiving, more so than Christmas, is a time of family get-together and a reminder to be thankful.
I grew up in a close family back in Vietnam. The childhood memories still delight me. I had a good childhood. Since puberty my life has sucked, mostly because of my doing. Still, every year, in fact, every day, I am thankful that I have not killed myself or anybody else, that I am healthy and still have money to keep body and soul together. In all fairness I must say I have been a very lucky man. I hesitate to use the word "blessed" because of the religious connotation. Luck is a better choice of word. I was born good looking, reasonably intelligent and intellectually curious. And my son and my women love me, even to this day. At least I fancy they do. Of course, I love them, too, mostly stupidly and hopelessly, but I love them nonetheless. I have a very big heart. I can't help myself. I have always been a dreamer. Dreaming is something I am very good at. So now, I am dreaming another impossible dream. I will soon find out if I am really dreaming or I do have some chance to actualize my dream. The reason why I love dreaming is that I get strong, disciplined, rejuvenated, and kind when I dream.
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