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wilfrido david
wilfrido david THANKSGIVING IS the most observed of all American holidays, a very special day much more looked forward to than Christmas and New Year's Day. It is a day for family get togethers: just the right time to have family reunions, to rebond, to catch up with what or who you've been missing.

You fly despite the torture you have to go through customs security, or you drive despite the outrageous gas prices, or maybe, you just walk a few blocks away to your parents' apartment—after all they still support you because you are jobless, either by circumstance or by choice. Are you in the 47% that the ill-fated Romney says who think the government owes them a living and then blame Obama on just about everything that ails his administration?

Be that as it may, we have so many things that we have to be thankful for. Or have we forgotten to acknowledge our blessings, ignored or belittled during the course of our daily lives? If you were a victim of Sandy, the hurricane that devasted the U.S. eastern board, you can stop looking around on who to blame that on, you can at least be thankful for your life being spared.

If you were jobless and had just now got hired, isn't that something to be thankful for? How many nations on earth can support the unfortunate and the downtrodden with entitlements such as jobless benefits, subsidized housing, food stamps and the like, all paid for by taxpayers who are struggling to meet their own debts? And yet you gripe endlessly to the point of exasperation! Only in America.

Thanksgiving isn't just enjoying the day with family over that poor turkey that had nothing to live for except to sacrifice itself in the oven just to please you. Aren't you at least thankful that you are not a turkey? This is a day to ponder on our lives' seemingly unappreciated blessings, and this is the time to express them silently when your family says the traditional before meal prayers, with your own thoughts playing in your mind and the hint of a smile on your face mind that there are, indeed, so many things, good or bad, that we have to be thankful for.

Thank God, my wife isn't aware of my indiscretions (or, if otherwise, for ignoring them just to preserve the peace). To this day, the rest of the family are not aware that they have another sibling swept under the rug—by the comely family maid who had a lot to-do with the predicament. I have pictures of General Petraeus, Tiger Woods, John Edwards, ex-President Clinton, and Arnold Swatzenegger hanging in my den, not because I idolize them, but I at least relate to their downfall, although I'm thankful that I don't have the wherewithal to settle as they did their problems with huge divorce settlements.

I am thankful that I live in a small city, away from the hustle and bustle of a big city where commuting is a daily problem, where panhandling is fast becoming a way of life, where joblessness is the excuse of last resort, and the economy is such that after declaring bankruptcy and then debt-free for a while you realize that you are now back to square one? Drug users have to be thankful in that they can go to rehab, if that is their choice; but what happens if the state didn't look after them? They wind up with their corpses being donated to hospitals and medical institutions.

Especially, this Thanksgiving Day, I am just grateful that I still have the capacity to appreciate the things that God has bestowed upon me, and that I am probably better off than the next person, like the veteran with PTSD, the one who walks with an artificial leg, the one with a reconstructed face, the one whose brain is only enclosed in his skull as if only for safe-keeping, and those with eyes that could no longer see. I am thankful that I still have my bodily functions: an alert mind, an outrageous sense of humor, can walk without assistance, and alas—it is not worth worrying about—erectile dysfunction. My wife isn't complaining anyway, and come to think of it, it is also one thing to be thankful about. I am like the snake whose female companion is bugging him about his hiss as not as strong, his slithering not upcoming, his losing his bite because of his dentures, and some such wifely nagging. He can only say, "But, Cleo, haven't you heard of reptile dysfunction?" And she can only rattle on....

Am I glad that I don't live in Palestine and Israel, and for that, too, I am most thankful.

To my late sister, who petitioned for me and my family to live in this wonderful country, become American citizens, adapt to a new culture and make something of our lives—my heartfelt thanks. I now read about illegal immigrants being put at the forefront of politicos' promises and agendas and I can only surmise that the only ones who will benefit from this problem are immigration lawyers.

Thank God for my family's wellbeing. And for all intents and purposes, ultimately, that's all that matters. Family and Thanksgiving!


[About the author. Wilfrido David is a resident of Albuquerque, New Mexico since 1985. He is an avid news consumer, habitually tuned to global TV via satellite. In turn, he occasionally comes up with spiced up essays and anecdotes liberally sprinkled with his wry humor, at times irreverent, oftentimes as corny as corn-on-the-cob, but nontheless thought provoking. He thinks of himself as a "junior senior," a mature gentleman with very active brain cells but a waning testosterone count. He is an American citizen by necessity, not by choice, as he so aptly put it. He is as Kapampangan as sisig, no more, no less.]

-Posted: 10:50 PM 11/26/12 | More of this author on eK!
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