Giving Thanks and Astronomical Wedgies

This weekend is the Canuck Thanksgiving; when I was younger I remember our dinners being loud, busy and full of hooliganry.

My family used to congregate down at our trailer in WA state and there we would meet up with our other family members and countless friends; it wasn't unusual to have more than 50 people in attendance, but this often resulted in quadruple the amount of food and several turkeys (one year we named them respectfully 'Charles, Princess Di and Camilla' - they even wore crowns.). There was always a large group of kids that we counted on being there and of course we would run around causing trouble, with the dogs chasing after us getting in the way of adults carrying trays of food, peeling potatoes and carrots and heaving picnic tables to form a dining area not unlike a mess hall. It was chaos and everyone loved it.

We were fortunate most years to have our friend Lisa Brokop join us for the weekend; this usually meant she was taking a break from recording or touring or just home to visit from Nashville. She always brought her guitar and would treat us to songs around the campfire, with her mother playing the accordion by her side. One year, Lisa brought her friend Doug Flutie with her for the big dinner - I of course had no idea who this man was, but figured he had to be famous enough when all these people came to my trailer and they weren't there to see Lisa. My dad would pester me to get his autograph, but never told me who he was. I know now he was a famous quarterback football player for the NFL; his brother Darren plays for the CFL. Now that I am older, I see him endorsing cheap long distance phone companies and breakfast cereals on t.v. whereas his brother has taken his place as a football star. That's gotta hurt, just a little bit.

As a kid I was pretty contemplative and was often caught deep in thought and analyzing the person in front of me; I remember watching this Doug Flutie man sitting in my dad's lawn chair in my yard in front of my campfire with my dog running around him as he talked about his kids and Sesame Street. I was baffled as to why my dad, a proud, silent man would be so coy as to ask me his young daughter for this man's autograph. What was so special about this guy? Hardly a hero, in my opinion.

Now that Thanksgiving is here again, I look back on those dinners that I so looked forward to every year, when everyone was carefree and when life seemed to hold fewer burdens. I think about the loved ones who are now gone and those whose lives are drawing to a close, never to join us again and I am saddened. But with pain comes the opportunity to consider what is still left to be enjoyed, what Thanksgiving dinners are yet to come when the children of years ago now have children of their own and a new generation is born to carry on their own carefree ways. I know that even though my trailer is gone and my parents will not be joining my family this year, that some things will never change - jokes will still be told, skits will be performed, children will sing and dance and my cousin Ian will still give us all wedgies when we least suspect it. Ya gotta love family.