Just a short post this week, as tonight I will be driving Mrs. Done by Forty and our two golden retrievers up to the mountains outside of San Bernadino, to visit our family, catch up with loved ones, watch all the football, take nerdy board games too seriously, and eat and drink beyond any sensible point.
There really is no better holiday than Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is for all of us: a time to gather with everyone you love and who loves you back, even though they voted for the wrong person last year, and are going to ruin dinner by telling you about Pizzagate, again, when all truly you want from Uncle John is the mashed potatoes.
This is the time of year when we’re also supposed to be thankful for the things we have. Which is kind of trite, when we have so dang much. I always end up saying that I’m grateful for the same things: my family, our health, being together.
Which I am, of course. But it’s a bit hollow.
Then yesterday, I stumbled across this video when looking for youtube clips on how to build a sidecar for my bicycle.
And watching this, I wondered about how my mom was one of the three siblings (out of nine) that made it to the States from Manila. That I was one of my grandmother’s grandchildren who hit the lottery: who had a parent that made it to a country where a kid could drop out of college and move to California without any plan whatsoever, and still end up graduating with an English degree. And somehow pursue financial independence and a possible early retirement, by forty.
Had I been just a bit less lucky, I might have had a very different career path. Who knows. Maybe I’d be pedaling others around in