I Got a Wave Today

Earlier, I posted about the Wheeled Waving Man of Welch Road. He was out there this morning, sending me off on a long holiday weekend.

Black as Pitch Was That First Friday in the New World

Give Thanks

Have a Thrifty Thanksgiving

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I've decided to enter the highly lucrative field of Russian Thanksgiving card design. I hear there are huge fortunes to be made. We focus so much on minority markets and pay very little attention to all the new gold-laden, tracksuited, sketchy immigrants among us.

After some cursory study, I have determined that Russians enjoy nudity, food, sports and drinking. They are also into totally surreal, off-the-wall shit.

Isn't it heartwarming how deep down, we're all really the same?

Больш

(Translation: "Give Thanks")

America is Tired of Watching the Detroit Lions on Thanksgiving

Google's query suggestion tool is creepy and accurate, like some sort of mind-reader. Or I just asked the obvious question that everyone else is asking.That's exactly what I wanted to know, and I guess it works by how many searches a particular query gets, meaning this question is more popular than "Why does Detroit suck? or "Why does Detroit even have a football team?" or "Why does Detroit bother to make cars anymore?" all of which aren't even offered as options.

Sadly, "Where's My Jetpack?" requires I get all the way to the "j" in jetpack before Google gives me any love.

This Is What It's Like

My co-workers are leaving early with well-wishes for a Happy Thanksgiving. My blogger friends post the same nice tidings. My Twitter feed is full of turkey talk and expressions of thanks, while we all look forward to a weekend of football and food. (Go Gators.)

Our lives often suck, but they could be worse.

And so, from the bottom of the pan of candied yams, where the sticky-sweet goo of brown sugar and marshmallows pool, I give you this syrupy, thankful lyric.

(There is no music yet, except in my head, so you're free to set these verses in your mind to whatever genre/beat pleases you.)

This Is What It's Like

From the forthcoming project Time's New Romans

What’s that shine in your eye?
yeah, you’re such a good spy
Have you been getting high?
I like the way you move
Slinky—with a groove
Not a thing you need to prove

So if the world stopped now
has it been a good ride?
Could you get off happy?
Did you have a good time?
And if it all ends tonight
would you die with regret?
Was there something you wanted?
Was there something unmet?

Well I’m glad you’re not let down
and I’m glad you can see
that this is what it’s like

to be happy

And if the money don’t show
and the car won’t go
and the dream is moving slow
Take a walk ‘round the block
Stop and take stock
Just listen—try not to talk

And you know it makes sense
to be at home in the stream
not looking past the trees
but living the dream
And when you’re going with the current
you expect to get wet
Keep your head above water
‘cause we’re not there yet

Well I’m glad you’re not let down
and I’m glad you can see
that this is what it’s like
This is what it’s like
This is what it’s like

to be happy

©2008 Radio Free Babylon. All Rights Reserved. For Whatever That's Worth.

More Thanksgiving thoughts over here.

So Many Symbols, So Little Time

Enjoy your holiday, Americans. The rest of you, keep working.

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Compared to the dour couple, I'd rather hang with these folks.

Thank God for Underwear

From 1951, when apparently "underwear" were known as "trigs," we have Mark Foley and a congressional page off to shoot a turkey for the table. Or they've convinced the turkey to lead them home like a drum major in some sort of NAMBLA parade.

This copywriter shames me. I never thought of underwear as something to be thankful for. I need to count my blessings more carefully.