At The Gateway to the Holidays

+ A Thanksgiving Nighthawk

Vol. 75, November 21st, 2023 Published a day early online

A Vivid Time of Year

At The Gateway to the Holidays

I always stop. Always. It’s usually nighttime when I see them. The first Christmas trees slumped against the rack outside of Walmart this year. I went over for a good long smell.

Cue the Charlie Brown: Christmas time is here. In the chaos of the season, the scent of spruce needles brings me back–a swirl of thoughts, memory lane, pictures of long ago.

It’s not all good. There’s alarm at how fast the year went, and an aching loss sometimes. There’s a few empty chairs at the table that break my heart. Thanksgiving is a keen reminder, impossible to ignore.

Perhaps it’s complicated for you, too. But, maybe the answer is contained in the riddle. Thanksgiving draws near, simmering with recollection, a gateway to the holidays. When I was a kid and the empty chairs were full, the occasion seemed dull. “No presents, man.”

How things change. What a marvelous day, set aside for gratitude, especially in the face of hardship–the pilgrims at the first, the popularization of the holiday during the Civil War, and now to the present.

May this year’s feast be as you wish. But either way, I’m grateful we get to wish each other a Happy Thanksgiving.

Gobble Gobble

Virginia is home to an estimated 180,000 wild turkeys. YUM.

(I’m vegetarian. But these critters make me hungry. Must have some coyote influence rattlin’ around in the ol’ brain.)

Quote of the Week

“Thanks are the highest form of thought, and gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”

– G.K. Chesterton

A Big Day In The Pictures

Edison labs records 1st surviving movie, 1890. 41 years later, Frankenstein stars Boris Karloff, 1931

Song of the Week

Beethoven’s “Symphony No. 9.” You’ve heard it a million times, but listen again, and give thanks for being on a planet that has Beethoven and stuffing and eggnog.

Share Your Story

What are you most grateful for this year? Tell someone. If your neighbor is away, send us a letter. PO Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588 or Joshurban@protonmail.com

Letters from Josh

(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #161)

Appearing in the Altavista Journal: Late Night Radio “Pardon Me, Ma’am”

Howdy, folks, and welcome back to the show! Maybe you’re reading this while you’re stuck in line. Take a look around, I might be here too. Thanksgiving eve is when I do most of my shopping. At least we have stores and lines to get bogged down in, unlike those ol’ pilgrims. This helps me with the stress of the season. The holiday is for gratitude even if winter is coming and the ship is leaky, and that’s a beautiful thing.

It’s an extra tickle to write to you in the paper this time of year. Have you heard of Sarah Josepha Hale? She’s most famous for composing “Mary Had a Little Lamb” (the original, although I prefer Buddy Guy’s version). We also have her to thank for the day off the last Thursday of November.

She wrote articles, letters, and columns for the paper for thirty six years pushing for a national holiday of Thanksgiving. President Lincoln proclaimed it a thing in 1863.

Ms. Hale towers over the day, but as a fellow columnist who doesn’t know his place, I’d like to add a new seasonal idea for extra fun. This year, in tribute to S. J. Hale, my newspaper big idea: pardon a turkey–a human one.

Presidents do it for poultry, why not take the idea and cut Uncle Jimmy some slack? Oh, we all have an Uncle Jimmy, with his crazy ideas, bad puns, and habit of using pumpkin pie as an excuse to take half a tub of cool whip as a topping...wait, that’s me.

But seriously, folks, here’s the plan: before the madness starts and guests arrive, pick an unlikely person to extend unusual patience to–someone who acts like a genuine turkey. Keep it quiet, of course. The turkey must not know it’s been pardoned, because then the only gobbler in the room will be you. Don’t be a cad. It would be in worse taste than my attempt at baking pumpkin pies back in ‘18.

If nothing else, this holiday ceasefire will do your blood pressure good, and maybe that problem guest will respond well to a little seasonal grace. (And maybe they won’t, and that’s okay too.) “Sure, Uncle Jimmy, want some cool whip with that?”

While I hope everyone in your family is a saint, maybe it’ll make a good day better if you’ve got a turkey or three walking through the door.

And if I’m a guest at your party? Apologies for the state of the kitchen. You see, while fixing the stuffing, the onions made me cry, and the celery escaped from the counter, and turns out the ceiling isn’t smoke resistant, and, well, Happy Thanksgiving. Pardon me, ma’am.

Catch you on the flip side,

Josh

Send letters and leftovers to P.O. Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588, or say gobble gobble online @RealJoshUrban on Twitter.